Days Of Future Past
by LokiThisIsMadness
Summary: Some give up as soon as they hear it. Some keep going, motivated by the desire of returning to the ones they love. But all of them are changed, in one way or another. After one, how could one remain the same with the blood of innocents on their hands?
1. To Hell and Back

**Prologue, Part One.**

* * *

 **Tristan Salvatore, 19, Citizen of New Orleans, Louisiana.**

* * *

They say dead men have no secrets.

That's not completely true. My father used to say that people, dead or alive, are layers and layers of secrets. You may think that you know them, that you know who they are and what they want, but you don't. I never thought this was true, but right now, standing outside my father's bedroom, I see that he did have a point.

People always have secrets. Even my father, the man I thought I knew and loved, was never what he seemed to be. The real Marcus Salvatore was always hidden behind the good father and husband that he pretended to be.

And I'm supposed to be exactly like him. To take his place in the organization, as his eldest son and heir, and help the others plan the Games. With my father almost dead, it's what I'm supposed to do. It's my duty to the Salvatore family, to carry on what has been a family tradition for almost eight years.

Do I want to do it? No. Do I have to do it? Yes.

As soon as the door opens, all three of us stand up and watch as my mother walks out of the room, with messy hair and red eyes. She didn't deserve that. None of us did but life isn't about what you deserve, it's about what you get.

"He wants to see you, Tristan." She says, without looking at me. My mother never liked to show weakness in front of anyone else and for her, crying is a sign of weakness.

It's a sign that you aren't strong enough to deal with what life has thrown at you. Weak people never go far. They let emotion stand in their way of being great and sooner or later, they will fall. I always believed that everyone falls, strong or weak, because that's just the way life is. It's just a matter of who's strong enough to stand up.

I nod, walking into the room and closing the door behind me. As soon as I come in, I want to get out. My father might still be alive, but it seems more like a funeral than a goodbye. The room smells of death, of my father's death, and that's why I want to leave as soon as possible.

 _Okay, let's get this over with._

Talking a deep breath, I walk over to my father's bed, and sit next to him.

It's so strange. Sometimes, people go mad when someone they love dies but right now, I feel nothing. I should feel more for the man who raised me, for the man who taught me to be exactly like him, but that's when I realize that was all he was to me. Just a man who raised me, but never my father.

He never wasted a second of his precious time to give me a hug, to tuck me in at night, or to teach me how to play football. To him, it was always about our duty to the family, and nothing more. So, why should I feel anything else?

"Father," I say, keeping a delicate voice. "Mother said you wanted to see me." When he coughs and looks at me, I suddenly feel grateful that all the windows are closed. That way, he won't be able to see my face or know what I'm thinking.

"Tristan, yes. I'm glad you are here. Son, there's something I must tell you." Now what? More secrets?

I'm tempted to tell him that I couldn't care less about anything that he has to say to me, but I hold back my tongue. I might be many things, arrogant and wild and rash, but no one will ever say that Tristan Salvatore doesn't respect the dead.

"I'm listening, father."

"Back at my office, there's something I want you to have. The plans, for this year's Games. As you know, we were supposed to hold the Games here this year, but the organization picked Hoster Manderly for the job since I won't be able to do it." The plans? Every year, twelve people from all around the United States were picked for the Hunting Games. I had been present in all seven of them, but it had never been our family's duty to be the host. Until now.

"But father, shouldn't we give them to Hoster?" Hoster Manderly had been my father's best friend when they were children, and he had watched every single one of us grow up. If there was anyone that should have the honor of hosting the Games in their own house, it should have been Hoster.

"No, no, no. Tristan, listen to me. Hoster Manderly can never get his hands on those plans or he'll destroy our family completely. You must be the one to take them somewhere safe and wait until it's out time again."

"If you say so, father, that's what I shall do." Or maybe I'll just burn the damn thing and call it a day. "I should go now and do as you said." I stand up, turning around to leave, but my father's hand locks around my wrist.

He's cold. _So cold._

The first thing I notice as soon as hand locks around my wrist is that he is so cold, almost like he's already dead. "I love you, son. Never forget that."

I should be able to do it. I should be able to turn around and tell him that I love him too, that I'll take care of our family and do everything that he said, but I can't. Instead, I turn around and leave, closing the bedroom door behind me. Too many years of secrets and hate and revenge stand between us as a barrier, one that I'll never be able to destroy. Not even if I wanted to.

My siblings are standing outside, with our mother standing next to them. No matter what my father thought, this is my real duty. To protect my family, no matter the cost. Do I care about the Games? No. Do I care about the organization? No. But if following on my father's footsteps is all it takes to protect them, so be it.

It's my job now. I must be brave, and show them that there's nothing we should be afraid of. Even I don't believe in that myself.

"Did you talk to him?" My mother asks and I nod. "He loves you so much Tristan, you need to know that. He's so proud of the man that you became."

Is he? "I know that, mom, don't worry. There's something I need to do, though, something that father asked me to do in his office." She nods, but brings me in for a quick hug. For a moment, I allow myself to relax in her arms.

Ever since I was a little boy, if there was anyone that could calm me down and talk me out of doing something bad, it was my mother. She is associated with peace in my mind, while my father was always associated with war and duty.

That must be why I always went to her when I was scared. Just like now.

As I walk over to my father's office, to get the plans, I try to recall everything I learned about the organization over the years.

Every year, they pick twelve people from all around the world to enter the Hunting Games. Poor, innocent people that no one but their family will miss and who have no idea about what they are getting into. They are taken to the chosen place that will host the Games that year and for one week, they have everything they could ever desire.

And then the real fun begins.

It's nothing good, but it's tradition. To be honest, I only ever payed attention to it because my father always insisted that I, as his eldest son and heir, should be prepared to take his place when the time came. I wasn't allowed to play football outside like any other teenage boy, or to fall in love with a girl and do what we weren't supposed to do.

I needed to grow up and be a proper son. I could never have fun or fall in love with whoever I wanted, because I was supposed to marry the daughter of another member of the organization and keep the family line going.

I can't hate them for that, though. My parents, who were only doing what they thought was right, and what they were taught to do by their family.

I hate _them._ The organization and all the people who pay to actually enter the Game. As if killing innocent people wasn't bad enough, every year six people enter the Game with the other twelve. _The Hunters._ People who are rich enough that they can actually pay to enter a fight to the death, all because they aren't happy with their narrow little life and like to take out their anger in innocent people.

It's them I hate, because if they didn't pay to enter the Game, there would be no Game. The organization lives with the money those people pay to enter the Game and their own personal fortune, of course.

 _Bloody bastards._

As soon as I reach my father's office and walk in, I close the door behind me and lock it. First of all, I need to find the papers and actually decide what to do with it. I could talk to my mother and decide where we should hide it, but then I realize how much danger that would put her in.

I can't do that. I need to do this alone and protect my family, no matter the cost.

I find them in the desk, exactly where he keeps everything that is considered important. It's a red envelope, with _8th Hunting Games_ written in it. I should open it, I know, and see if it's the right thing. But I can't do it. Not here. Opening that would feel like disturbing my father's peace and I can't do that. Not yet. Not until I'm sure that it's the right thing to do and the one that will protect my family.

After I place the envelope in my jacket and make sure it's safely hidden from prying eyes, I walk out, saying a silent goodbye to my father's office. If I had it my way, I would never walk into that place again. It reminds me too much of him.

As I'm trying to decide the right words to use at my father's funeral, something stops me. I hear a wicked laugh and someone presses the cold barrel of a gun against the back of my head.

"Hello, Tristan. It's been a while."

* * *

 **Look who's back! Okay, hello everyone. It's been a while. Am I back? Yes. This is a new series, something that I'm really excited about. I could never do another full SYOT with 24 tributes, I wouldn't even make it to training, but this is different. As I'll explain down there, it has half of the normal number of tributes and the age range is also different, so it's something I'm really excited to start.**

 **Honestly, I've missed writing. School ruins most of my time, but I've missed writing. It's something I need to be doing right now and I got this idea, so here I am! A full SYOT would never work for me, but this is new. I'm motivated, I have time, so you can be sure I'm not going to leave until this one is finished. I love the idea behind this new story and I'm excited to see the type of tributes that everyone will submit!**

 **Form and rules are on my profile! About updates, I can't promise anything. I'm not going to do it like I did in TOOM, and force myself to write. I'm going to write whenever I want to write, but don't worry, I'm not going to take like three or four months to update a new chapter. So, about the story. Here's a summary about the basic plotline:**

 _The organization is composed by a group of very rich men and women, from all over the United States. Every year, they pick twelve people from all over the country. They can be an old men, a teenager or even an average house-wife. They want people that no one might miss or those they think would never make a difference in the world. Those people think they are joining a survivor program, where the last one standing will get everything they ever wanted in life. For one week, all of their dreams come true. After that, it's where the real fun begins. They are taken to an arena, chosen by the host of those year's Games, and learn of what they are really there to do. Some give up as soon as they hear it. Some keep going, motivated by the desire of returning to the ones they love. But all of them are changed, in some way or another. No one remains the same, even the one that goes home. What they don't know is that they are not alone. Every year, six people pay to actually enter the Game. They are called "The Hunters". Having to face each other and escape from the Hunters, who will live and who will die?_


	2. The Bloody Crown

**Prologue, Part Two.**

* * *

 **Tristan Salvatore, 19, Citizen of New Orleans, Louisiana.**

* * *

It's cold.

It's the first I notice, even before I wake up. It's not the kind of cold that makes you want to sit next to a fireplace and drink hot chocolate to get warm, but the kind of cold that makes you want to run, run and run until you find somewhere safe. Somewhere warm.

"Time to wake up, Mr. Salvatore. We have business to discuss." I recognize the voice as soon as he starts to speak. _Of course._ My father used to say that power is like an addiction, the more you have, the more you want.

It seems like he was right, after all. _Again._

I don't feel bad for not listening to my father. I don't feel for bad for not loving him, in a way that any son should love his father. However, this one thing that I regret and that is not considering that my father might have been right. At least, he was right about Hoster Manderly.

When I open my eyes, all I see is white. It's ironic, considering the kind of situation that I'm currently in. White was always a color associated with purity and innocence, the opposite of the man next to me.

If this room was anything like Hoster Manderly, it should be all painted in black.

"Do we? Where should we start then, Hoster? At the part where you betrayed my family?" He sits in a chair, a few feet away from me. Hoster Manderly was never a man to wear something that wasn't the best he could find, and even now, he had picked his best suit for the occasion.

An occasion that will probably end with my death.

People are so scared of death that they stop living, but they never really think about dying until death is staring them right in the face. I know, because that's what happening to me right now.

I never thought about dying, neither did I stop living because I was afraid to die. But right now, standing right here in the middle of no where in front of the man that betrayed my family, it's a possibility I have to consider.

"I didn't betray anyone, Mr. Salvatore. Not yourself, not your father or anyone in your family. I just did what I had to do, no matter what I wanted. You see, Tristan, this is why I'm still here and your father is about to be sent to his grave. I do whatever I have to do, no matter what I want or what I'm feeling. Your father, though, did what he thought was best."

 _No, Hoster, you're wrong. He was a bad person, but you might be even worse than him._

"My father is not what matters here. He's gone, and he's not longer in charge of the Salvatore family. I am." Hoster throws his head back, laughing.

"Oh, my dearest Tristan. I know this might be hard for you, so let me explain it again. Your family has money, yes, and that might be what will keep all of you alive for a little longer. But whatever power you had in the Hunting Games, it's gone. It's mine."

That's when I realize that someone else might be watching. Hoster is not dumb at all, as he has proven in the last few days, so he must know that it wouldn't be that easy to take the place in the organization that belongs to a member of the Salvatore family.

This is something else. And to figure out what this is about, I need to take a page from Hoster's book, and play the game exactly like he is playing it.

"Fine. You want to get our place in the organization? It's yours. I never cared about it, anyway. Look at me, Hoster. I'm nineteen years old. I don't want to sit in a chair and plan a fight to the death with other people, I want to go out there and make mistakes," The look on Hoster's face is telling me that I'm doing the right thing. He's interested.

"I wanna pick a fight with the wrong guy and break a few bones, I wanna fall in love and I want to see the world. I don't want anything of this. This was my father's world and there's a reason why I hated it. Why I hated him."

He nods, but I can tell by the look on his face that he's not convinced, not yet.

 _Work harder, Tristan. Remember what is at stake._

That was what he used to tell me, whenever I didn't do as well as he wanted on a test, or whenever I don't the interest he wanted me to show in the Hunting Games. I never listened to him, but right now, I see that he was right.

I need to work harder. I need to remember what is at stake.

My family.

That is when I realize that my father and I weren't that different, but there was one thing that always separated us. He wanted to do what he thought was best, and I only wanted to protect the family that he left behind.

Love isn't weakness. It's strenght. And right now, it's the only thing making me stronger. It's like fire, cursing through my veins, making me want to fight. To avenge my father, because if there's one thing I'm sure about, is that my father was killed by Hoster Manderly.

I might have never liked him, but it's my duty to avenge him. To protect our family.

"So, what do you say, Mr. Manderly? Are you finally ready to get what you always wanted, and let my family go? Because if you are, I promise that we'll leave and you'll never see us again."

He smiled. "You are a smart boy, Tristan. It's such a shame that this has to happen. If things had been different, if your father had been different to me, I might have taken you in, now that he's gone."

"My father was your friend. He thought of you like a brother, the brother that he never had." Staying calm is impossible right now, even if it was the best thing to do.

I hate him. I hate all of them. And right now, it's getting harder and harder to pretend that I even tolerate him.

"He should have payed more attention to his _brother_ then, and he would have realized that he and I were nothing alike." I'm about to get up and give this man what he deserves, consequences be damned, when the door opens.

And, for a second, my heart stops beating.

Soldiers come in, but to me, they are nothing. Next to them, however, are the people that matter the most to me. My mother, trying to hold on to my brothers and to my sister, as if anything could take them from her, at any moment.

And it could. It will.

The soldiers force my family to get on their knees, each with a gun pointed to the back of their head. "What do you want? I told you, you can even it all! All the money, everything, just let them go. Please." I feel the tears blurring my vision and I want to hate myself for being weak, but I don't care about myself. Not anymore.

They are all that matters.

Hoster only laughs. "There is it, Tristan. I already have everything I want. I never needed you, or your family. I just wanted to see if you were just like your father, and you are. Even if you don't want to admit it."

He nods to the soldier standing on his left, and hesitation, he fires. My little sister falls to the ground, her blood splattering across the white floor.

I don't want to watch anymore. I don't want to fight.

 _Please, please._

One by one, they all fall down. My family. And with each of them, a piece of my heart dies as well, leaving me with nothing but a hole where my heart once was.

When he turns the gun to me, I don't move. It's not worth it. Not anymore.

I'm tired of fighting.

"And with the Salvatore family gone, a new era can finally begin. One where the Hunting Games will be the best one yet."

He pulls the trigger, and everything turns black.

 _I'm sorry._

* * *

 **Hey. It's been a while, but I'm finally back. I know everyone probably skipped to the end to see if their tribute was accepted or not, but hey, the prologue is important. In case you are wondering, yes, Hoster will be a character in the story. Not as important as the tributes or even the hunters, of course, but he'll have a role to play in the rest of the story.**

 **About the tributes. I loved every single tribute I got, but I couldn't accept all of them. You'll notice that I accepted two more tributes than the 12 I said I would accept, but there's a reason for that. It will be explained in the next few chapters. A blog review would be very much appreciated, so I can see who you like and who you don't like.**

 **Also, I'm not going to lie to anyone. I love reviews, as much as the next person does. It's way to keep me motivated and even if reviews don't decide who lives or dies, it's something that I consider. It tells me who's reading and who isn't, and honestly, how can I write your tribute in the way you want me to write them if I don't know if I'm doing it right or not?**

 **Also, I changed a few ages and details about the tributes. Hope you don't mind. Blog link is on my profile.**

 **The list!**

* * *

 **Tribute List:**

 **Females:**

\- Alys Crawford, 35.

\- Genevieve Kalantar, 30.

\- Breelyn Osborne, 25.

\- Cirian Costello, 28.

\- Lilya Walker, 24.

\- Erica Schmidt, 32.

\- Avery Castella, 20.

 **Males:**

\- Ren Ohara, 19.

\- Casimir Viteri, 28.

\- Abdul Raymond, 23.

\- Jett Archer, 41.

\- Emmanuel Johnston, 19.

\- Asa Richgels, 24.

\- Damien Arczynski, 30.


	3. The Darkest Hour

**Chapter Three.**

* * *

 **Abductions**

* * *

 **Alys Crawford, 35, Seattle.**

* * *

"Another?"

When I nod and Sean places another cup in front of me, I don't even pay attention. For all I care, there could be water instead of bourbon in that cup, and I wouldn't even notice. Every day, it's the same thing.

I come here, I drink, I pass out.

Sometimes, I can stop before I get too drunk and pass out, and manage to find my way home. When I do pass out, well, there isn't much that can be done. I usually wake up right where I passed out, with a blanket over my shoulders, a courtesy from Sean.

The old man pretends that he doesn't care, but as always, I see exactly who he is. Someone bitter, someone cynical, someone with nothing to lose. _Someone like me._

Besides, I come here every day.

Anyone here would probably think that a bar like this was no place for a lady, that someone like me should be at home, taking care of her husband and her children. Men have looked the wrong way before, and some have even tried to make a move.

Men always seem to think that whenever a woman is alone, drinking, she's either looking for trouble or for men. I don't want either.

I just want to be left alone, to drown in my own misery. But for some reason, people can't understand that.

"You should go home, girl. It's getting late."

I don't have a home. I did once, though. It's nothing but a distant memory now, but it was real. Too painful to remember, but it's long gone now. _Because of me. Because of what I did._

It's better to drown in alcohol than to remember.

"I don't have a home," I say, taking another sip of my drink. The alcohol is like fire on my throat, but it's a good feeling. It feels like the more I drink, the better I feel. "Besides, It wouldn't be the first time I stayed past closing time, anyway. I know you don't mind."

He doesn't mind the extra money on his pocket, that's for sure. It's a win-win situation. He provides my drink and lets me drink until I want, and I give him the extra money he needs to pay the rent for his house.

Everybody wins.

"Well, you better find some place to crash tonight, because there are some important people coming here tonight," He shrugs. "Maybe they'll finally buy this place, and I'll be free of people like you."

 _But Sean, dear, you are exactly like me._

When he notices that I don't say anything else, he leaves, probably to find someone else to bother.

Good. Now I can finally finish my drink in peace.

There aren't many people left. Just me, Sean, a couple of older men playing snooker and a teenager, sitting alone, lost in his own thoughts. He doesn't belong here. _I don't belong here._

It's true, I don't. I belong with Emma and Ketta, with my girls, with my family. I don't belong here, sitting alone at a bar and drinking myself to death.

 _You are here because of your choices, remember that._

It was one time. The more I try to remember, the more it hurts. We had been fighting, I don't even know why anymore, and she said it was all my fault. That I did nothing for our family, and that our daughter would be so much better if I was gone from her life.

That I was worthless.

I don't know what happened or why I did it, but for a moment, Ketta's words brought me back to my past at the community home. _You're worthless. You're nothing. You should have never been born._

All I took was one bad move, one mistake, and it was all over. One minute we were fighting and in the next one, Ketta was on the ground, crying. Emma was at the door, big eyes shining with tears, wondering why mom and mommy were fighting.

I don't hate Ketta for what she did. Not all, because I know that if I was in her place, I would have done the exact same thing. I only have myself to blame for everything that happened.

I hurt her, I hurt the woman I loved, while our daughter watched.

I'm a monster. I deserve to be punished.

I only notice the boy when he sits down next to me, drink in hand. He's older than what I thought; with wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and the hint of a beard appearing on his chin.

He doesn't belong here. Boys like him belong at a party, drinking with friends and looking for the wrong girl to spend the night with. He doesn't belong at a bar like this, reserved for criminals and self-loathing idiots.

That is why I come here.

So people will know that they should leave me alone, or they will pay the price. Just like Ketta did. Just like Emma did.

The men in here learned that they shouldn't mess with me, or they'll probably end up leaving this place with broken nose or maybe even a broken neck.

So what is this boy doing in here? And most of all, why is he talking to me?

"Hey," He says, when I don't even bother to spare him a glance. "I'm Noel. I noticed you were drinking alone, and I thought you might want some company. Drink alone isn't as fun as drinking with a friend, right?"

Oh. If I was someone else and if we somewhere else at the moment, I would have said that the boy was genuine. That he actually wanted to talk to me, and maybe even be my friend.

But we aren't. And at a bar like this, there is only one thing that he might want.

"I'm not interested in your company, boy, so you can go back to your table and finish your drink," When he doesn't move, I sigh, finally looking at him. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to finish my drink, so I can leave and find somewhere to crash for the night."

The boy, Noel, takes another sip of his drink. "Seems we have that in common. Do you happen to know some place that would take in someone that recently got out of jail? I'm afraid they would think I would murder them in their sleep. People are as paranoid as that."

Got out of jail, ah? It seems I was wrong. Maybe he does belong here, after all.

"Out of jail, yeah? What did you do? Hit your dog and blamed your little sister for it?" When he laughs, I can't help it but smile. It's been a while since I've smiled and this is nothing compared to my old smiles, but it's a start. It's something.

I can hold on to that little something.

"Yeah, yeah, something like that. What I did doesn't matter, it's what I'll do now that I'm out of that place that matters. I don't want to waste anymore time."

"So, what are you doing in a place like this, pretty boy? A bar like this one isn't a place to be when you don't want to waste anymore time."

He takes another sip of his drink, and I realize that I might be starting to understand who he really is. Someone who did something bad in the past, payed the price for it, and wants to start over for good. He's a lot like me, now that I think about it.

Except I don't have the courage to admit I want to move on.

"Trying to find my courage to do what needs to be done. They say alcohol is liquid courage, you know? I think I read that in a book somewhere. Besides, I'm trying to do the right thing for once. " He smiles, but this time, it's genuine smile. Not a fake one or one to try and get my attention. A real smile.

 _I wish I could smile like that._

"What about you, chuckles? A pretty lady like you shouldn't be here, you should be-"

"Taking care of my husband and children. I know, I know. I've heard that one before. Turns out I actually decided to take care of myself today." Yes, he might seem nice and all of that, but I won't tell a stranger everything that is wrong with my life.

If I wanted to talk about my life, I would have payed a psychologist. A lot of people think that was what I should have done, even before my entire life went wrong.

Someone raised in a community home, without parents or family or friends, would clearly need the help of someone that has more money than they can count.

Instead, I joined the military. I remember how everyone hated my decision back then, but I didn't care. My foster family threatened to throw me out, so I made their decision more simple and left as soon as I could.

They weren't my real family. I didn't have their blood, so of course I could never be compared to their real children. I might have lost a family back then, but I don't regret my decision.

I would have never changed my decision for them, or for anyone else. Even I had known Ketta and Emma by then, I would have done the same thing.

It was my life in the military that made me who I am, and without it, I would have been lost a long time ago. It was my time in the military that taught me how to be strong, how to look at bad situations and see an opportunity, and how to survive in a mad world like this one.

"You didn't even tell me your name yet," He says, fixing his brown hair with the free hand that isn't holding his drink. "I bet it's something old and nice, like Mary or Katherine. You look like a Katherine."

I hold back a laugh. Katherine or Mary? Well, I suppose they are nice names, but they are common. Every corner you turn to, you will probably find a Katherine or a Mary in there.

Not an Alys, though. It's why I like my name. It's one of a kind, just like me.

"Alys. My name is Alys. Happy now? Hopefully that will be enough for you to finally let me finish my drink." It's sad, because if I were someone else, maybe this could have worked out. I could have been friends with this boy and finally have someone to talk to.

But I can't. Caring and trusting only end with pain and a broken heart, and that is something that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to face again.

"Well, I suppose it was nice to meet you," I look around, noticing that everyone has left by now. Noel and I are the only ones left, besides Sean. It's time to leave. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," I nod, finishing my drink and standing up. "We'll see each other soon, I bet." With that, I turn around and start walking away. It's easier this way. I've never been good with goodbyes, anyway.

That is when I see them.

At first, I don't really pay them any attention. Three men, all dressed in black, talking to Sean at the entrance of the bar. I'm walking away, when the middle man's eyes find mine. "Miss Crawford, if you would be so kind as to come with us."

Shit, shit, shit.

My first thought is that Ketta finally made it through with the divorce, and now I'm going to jail to pay the price for every bad thing I ever did. My second thought is that I need to run.

You don't spend so much time in the military without learning a few tricks.

Using all of my strenght to push Sean away from the entrance, I run as fast as I can, but it's too late. One of the men grabs my arm, with an iron grip, and doesn't let go.

That's when I see Noel. "Hey, you leave her alone! She doesn't want to come with you." They don't answer him. In fact, they don't even seem to notice him. All they care about is me. "

When the man doesn't let me go, Noel seems to get even more angry. "Hey, are you deaf? I told you to let her go."

One hit is all it takes. Noel's limp body falls down, and he doesn't move again. "Take him with us," One of the men says. "He saw too much. Besides, the boss might need one more."

But before that, I see Sean. Not moving, not helping. He knew. All along.

Before I'm able to react or even try to help Noel, he brings a needle down on my neck, and everything turns black.

* * *

 **Genevieve Kalantar, 30, New York.**

* * *

It's a good day.

I know most people don't appreciate a simple fact like that one, but I do. It's one of those moments of clarity, where I can finally relax and be who I want to be.

A good day, indeed.

It's not the life that I always wanted, yet, but it's a start. I'm away from my family, from the asshole who wanted to call himself my husband, and I'm finally free.

Free to start making my own choices, and free to be whoever I want to be.

While walking down the street, I try to remember my plans for today. Meet Kelsey now, go to photograph school later and then go to the party.

I see Kelsey as soon as the cafe comes into view. She's sitting at the nearest table, wearing a dark blue dress and the shoes that I gave her for her birthday. They are black and simply fabulous.

Of course, I don't want nothing but the best for my best friend.

Although, I suppose that Kelsey is a little bit more than a best friend. _She's my sister._ She saved my life and for that, I'll never be able to repay her.

I just have to try and be the best person I can, for her.

"Lady Kelsey," I kiss both of her cheeks, but when she gives me a serious look, I burst out laughing and give her a tight hug.

Honestly, I like having a little bit of fun, from time to time, but it's not worth losing a hug from my best friend over that. Life is so short and time flies, so I try to enjoy everything. "I was worried when I woke up this morning and you weren't there."

"I had to get ready for my date," She smirks. "Besides, you know how long Miss Calloway takes to do something nice out of mess that is my hair."

I put the most serious face I have, and give her a small smile. "You know, Kelsey dear, no one can have hair as flawless as mine."

"Bitch!" She throws one of her napkins at me, but I dudge just in time, and it falls down. "You know, Gen, if I didn't know you I would actually be offended. You know how long I spend in the hair dresser."

"It's good thing that you know me better than anyone, Kelsey. But now, your hair doesn't matter. Tell me about your date. How soon can I meet him?"

This time, she looks offended. "Damn it Gen, I just met the guy, and you already want to take him from me? You know that if he saw you, you would never look at me again."

This is what I don't like. Kelsey is my friend, and whenever she is that insecure about herself, it breaks my heart. She's beautiful and any man that doesn't think that is either blind or gay.

Or maybe even both. Who knows.

"Kelsey," I say, and I take her hand in mine. She's my friend, my best friend and whenever thoughts like this cross her mind, it's my job to let her know it's not true. "You're the best person I know. If that idiot even thinks of hurting you, I'll be here to kick his ass. Besides, I know I don't anything to do with men, right now."

She sighs, but she keeps her hand on mine. This is what I love about the relationship I have with Kelsey. I know that she'll always be there for me, and that I will always be there for her. She saved my life and I know that the little things I do to cheer her up will never be enough to pay that debt, but it's all I can do to try.

Besides, being with Kelsey makes me happy. It's probably because I associate her with New York, with freedom and happiness, the same way I associate my family with being trapped and the abusive marriage that they wanted to place me in.

If there's anything I can do to make her happy, that's what I'll do.

She sighs, eating a cookie and taking a sip out of her coffee. "Gen, you know that you can't always be trapped in the past."

"I'm not trapped in the past, Kels, I just want to try other things. I came here to make a new life for myself and you know me well enough to know I won't rest until that's done."

"You do know you'll have to move on one day, right? I mean, look around you, Gen. This world is full of possibility. You never know what might happen."

I do exactly as she says. I look around us; from the clear blue sky, to the children playing with their mothers, and to all the beauty around us.

Honestly, Kelsey is right. Why the hell am I letting a beautiful day like this slip away, while worrying about someone who clearly doesn't deserve a single thought?

"You're right. This is what matters," I gesture to our hands, still together, a symbol of our friendship. "Not some idiot." A small smile appears on her face and I know that I have won, for now. That's the thing about Kelsey. I know that she doesn't do it because she means me any harm, but because she wants me to be happy.

However, it does get a little bit annoying whenever she tries to play match-maker for me.

I don't want to meet anyone. Of course, I want a family one day, just like everyone else. But, right now, I just want to focus on what I came here to do. I ran away from my family and the place I called home to escape from being married to someone I didn't love. But, deep down, there was always something else I wanted.

A good future. A good life. I always knew I didn't want to be reduced to some man's wife, carrying his children and taking care of them. I want more.

I want to be successful. I might not know what I want to do just yet, but I'm getting there. I have to believe that I'm getting or otherwise, all of this would have been for nothing.

I can't let that happen.

"So, where do you want to meet, after your date?" I might just go home and change into a good dress, while Kelsey goes on her date. "At home?"

When I first arrived at New York, I was living in a shelter. With no money, no job, there was no way I could ever afford a house. I was just happy that I had escaped from Texas and from Rahaul, most of all.

All hope was lost, or at least, that was what I thought. When I met Kelsey and we became friends, she got me a job as a bartender and a house. From there, I started to build my life.

All thanks to her.

She nods. "Yeah, once we're done with dinner, I'll go home." She lowers her voice, but winks. "Or if everything goes well, I might not even come home today."

"Ew. Stop acting like that," I make a vomit gesture and turn away from her, calling the bartender closest to us. "My friend is not a whore. My friend doesn't believe in going straight to _that_ in the first date."

When he gets closer to us, I ask for the bill. It's not much, only Kelsey's coffee and her cookies, but I insist on paying for this. Tonight, when we get to the party, she'll pay for our drinks.

It's only fair.

"Maybe you don't know me at all." I burst out laughing, because that is so not true, but the man gives me a weird look. Oh well. Let him look. I don't care.

They might look at me and see someone unstable, but I don't care. I know who I am. I'm not about to let someone's opinions change who I am.

I give him a five dollar bill, and kiss Kelsey on the temple. It's not a goodbye, it's a see you soon, so there's no need to make it a big thing. "I'll see you later, Kels. Have fun!"

She winks, and blows me a kiss. "But not too much fun, right?"

"And then you say I don't know you at all."

The walk home is quiet, but I don't care. Those are good moments, where I can relax and actually think about what I want to do for the rest of the day.

Right now, I just want to take a warm bath, and go back to sleep. Waking up without Kelsey in there scared me, and of course, I couldn't sleep until I saw it my own eyes that she was okay.

He could have gotten in at night, just like last time, and he could have taken her. Rahaul seems to like to take things that matter to me, because I also destroyed his thoughts of a perfect marriage and family, when I ran away.

Last time I saw him, he had left dead flowers in our apartment, with no message, but I know what they meant. It was the promise that he'll come back soon, and that it wasn't over.

It's all about waiting, right now.

When I get home and open the door, I can finally breath a sigh of relief. No sign of Rahual or his traps, just another good day. I walk over to the couch, taking off my shoes.

Maybe, I'll just go back to sleep...

I don't know how long it is or how long I was asleep, but when I hear the door bell ring, I wake up. It's not Kelsey, clearly, since she has a key.

It's him. It has to be.

I run over to the kitchen, picking up a knife. If it's him, I'll handle this once and for all and when Kelsey comes back from her date, I'll be able to tell her I finally got rid of our problem, and we'll celebrate.

Tonight, for real.

However, when I open the door, I see that I was wrong. It's not Rahaul, or even Kelsey. I see it was. Instead, three men stand outside our door, each of them larger than the other.

"Miss Faith? It's a pleasure to meet you. If you would be so kind and place the knife down, we need you to come with us."

They think I'm Kelsey. Right. Because there is no record of me actually being in here or living in here, so that's why they think I'm her.

Whatever they want with her, she doesn't know about it. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gone in a date with a man that she met two weeks ago. Most of all, she would have told me.

 _Would she?_

Her words from before come back to me, but I quickly brush them off.

 _She's my best friend. She was only joking._

I have to be brave, right now, for her. Because no matter what, I'm not letting the bastards take my best friend away, for something that she doesn't even know about.

"I'm not Miss Faith. But that doesn't seem to matter, does it? You're not taking me or my friend anywhere." I'm suprised at how strong and defiant my voice seems.

I'm not letting them take away my friend. Whatever I wanted to do to Rahaul, I'll do to them. No matter what happens.

The man seems confused. "Step aside. We know that Miss Faith lives here. This is the adress that we have for her. She is here."

"And who made you think I would step aside?" I'm not. I already made that decision. I'm not going back on it, no matter what happens.

"This," And with that, he take out a gun and points it at my abdomen. "Now, whoever you are, let us pass through and do what we came here to do."

"No."

"What did you say?"

"I said no." He turns to the man at his left. "Hold her, while we get the other one. And once we're out of here, we'll take care of her."

Take care of me?

I don't try to run. But before I am able to move, the larger man grabs me. I try to fight, punching and kicking the air with everything I have. I manage to hit the man on the knee, and for a moment, he lets go.

I'm not letting them take my friend. My best friend. My sister. My Kelsey.

I don't think. I let the survival instinct take over, and I bury my knife on the man's belly. He falls back with a cry, blood falling down from his wound.

"There's no one here. Take her instead. It will be enough punishment for this."

 _I'm sorry, Kelsey. I'm so sorry._

I fell a sharp pain on my neck and then, everything is gone.

* * *

 **Lilya Walker, 24, New Mexico.**

* * *

I hate this.

Most people would be happy to go home after a day of hard work, to rest and be with their loved ones. It's all that gets them through the day, knowing that it won't last forever, and that it will be worth it once they are reunited with their family.

It's different for me. The club is where I belong and the people in there are my family, and if I ever got the choice, that would be the place I would call home.

But sadly, people like me never get to choose.

I stuck the key into the lock of the apartment and turned, taking a deep breath. _It will all be over soon._ I just need to get Flipper and soon enough, I'll be back at the club. I'll be safe. _I'll be at home._

She's sitting on the couch and, as always, she has a glass in her hand. I don't even bother asking what it is, bourbon or whisky for sure, because all of it is the same.

It's poison. Just like her.

"You." My mother doesn't even look at me. She takes another sip of her drink, and reaches for the bottle to replenish her cup.

"Me." I answer, placing my keys on the table and reaching for my bag. If she wants to play it this way, so be it. I stopped caring a long time ago.

"Be careful with your courtesies, girl. People might think you got your rudeness from me." When she realizes that I'm not planning on answering, she continues. "I didn't think you would come home today. I was about to throw away that nasty creature of yours. He makes too much noise."

When I was a little girl, I used to dream about having a mother. About having a family. Someone to play with, someone to tell me they were proud of me, someone to tell me that they loved me.

Instead, I got a drunk for a mother and a drug-addict for a father. Just my luck.

It used to bother me, but most of all, it used to hurt me. Seeing all the happy children with a mother and father, while I was alone and had nothing, hurt like hell. However, even if it did hurt me, it also made me want something else.

I knew I had to be something great, something better, no matter what it took. I swore to myself I would never become something like my mother or even my father, because I would be better.

I didn't want the life of a drunk. I wanted it all. To see the world, to know everything about it, and to taste food from all the corners around the world. I wanted to meet new people, to fall in love with the wrong guy, and to regret it all on the next morning.

I wanted to live. Truly live. But, in order to live, I needed to make something out of myself.

"Flipper is not yours to throw away," I stated. "If you ever lift a finger to hurt him, you'll have to deal with me." I know she's not scared, but I don't care. Flipper is so much better than her, and he's only a dog.

 _Shame on you, mother._

When she doesn't answer, I turn away, walking straight for my room. Once I get Flipper and the rest of my belongings, I'll be able to return to the club, without having to worry about him.

I don't like to leave him here, I really don't. Who knows what she might do, one day, just to get back at me? But I have no other choice. Until I find a house for the both of us, he'll have to stay here.

I'll have to stay here.

As soon as I unlock the door to my room, Flipper looks up from his toy, eyes shining with happiness. Someone people might think it's pathetic that a girl's own dog has more love for her than her own mother, but I don't care.

One day, it will all be worth it. One day when they hear my name, they'll remember the girl who made something out of herself, and not the whore's daughter.

It's all I want. To be able to walk down the street with my head held high, without having to fix my eyes on the ground whenever someone speaks my mother's name.

 _And I'll get it. One day._

"Hey boy," I whistle, while kneeling. "Come over, it's okay. I'm here, no one is going to hurt you now." I whistle again, and he comes running over to me.

I don't understand how people could ever hurt dogs or any animal at all. I might keep Flipper locked in the house all day, with only a small space to eat and play, but he still loves me. He'll always love me.

He still barks whenever he sees me, his eyes still light up with joy whenever I ruffle his head or throw his toy and tell him to go and catch it. If there was anyone at all that deserved my anger, it was the woman sitting on the living room, and not my Flipper.

"You want to go and see Niko?" At the mention of Niko, Flipper's eyes light up, and his tail swishes against my leg. "I'll take that as a yes. Come on, then."

I motion for him to follow me, and he does. Flipper always liked Niko, and that was one of the many things that we had in common. Niko was my friend, maybe even my best friend, and the bartender at the club. We fought, yes, but who never fought with people they loved?

For better or for worst, he had been there for me. We managed to keep an healthy relationship, mixed with a lot of healthy flirting and some heavy fights, but it was good enough for me.

Maybe, if I had meet him in a different life, things could have been different. But if I let my emotions take over my judgment, I will end up like my mother. A drunk, a whore, and giving my children the life my mother gave me. I can't let that happen.

I'm meant for more. I have to be.

"You are going out again?" She asks, looking up from her gossip magazine, a defiant scowl on her face. She wants to make me angry, but I'm not giving her the satisfaction. Not now, not ever. "Oh and you are taking the beast with you. Wonderful."

The thought of becoming like her terrifies me. Of living a life with no purpose, no meaning, just living for the day and what it gives up.

I don't want that. I want to be a part of something.

Even if I'm not sure what it is just yet.

Something good, something great, it doesn't matter. All I want is to be a part something and to know that when the time comes, I left my mark on the world.

"It's not like you care, but yes, I'm going out again." She laughs, but I notice how she attempts to keep one eye on me and the other on Flipper, like she's afraid that out of no where, we'll attack her.

I know her. Even if I hate to admit it, I know her. I know she's paranoid, and I know she'll always look carefully when she meets someone knew. I got that from her, I suppose. "Well, you didn't meet a man, or you wouldn't be taking the beast with you. Unless your new boyfriend has some weird tastes."

"No, I didn't meet anyone. But then, I'm not looking for a man in every corner like you, mother dearest." I realize what she is going to do seconds before she does it.

The glass flies from her hand and crashes into the wall behind me, and if I hadn't moved just in time, it would have crashed into my head.

That bitch.

"You listen to your words, little girl and you listen to them very well. I am still your mother, and the next time you talked to me like that, will be your last." I should have expected that, but I don't care.

Hell, I'm not a bad person. I don't believe in hurting people unless they have hurt you before, like she did with me. It's only payback, for all the times she called me a mistake and for all the times she said she should have killed me before I was born.

Compared to that, what I just said to her was nothing.

"Very well, mother. I hope you drown in your drink." With that, I turn away and head for the door, with Flipper by my side and my backpack at my shoulder.

As soon as I'm out the door and out of her sight, I let the tears fall. I hate that she still has a hold on me, that even after all those years, she is still able to make me cry.

I hate that I'm weak. I hate her. I'm not one of those people that thinks love only holds you down, but in my mother's case, it's true.

No matter how much I grow up, no matter how hard I try, I'll always be the little girl waiting for a hint of her mother's love.

I just want to be free. Free from her, free from all of this, and free to start a new life.

Is that too much to ask?

Flipper keeps walking by my side, looking as happy as ever. Sometimes, I wish I could be just like him. Worried only about having fun, about eating and sleeping. No worried about the future, no worries about who I want to be and who I can't be, under any

"Are you happy, boy?" I know he can't answer, but sometimes, talking to Flipper is the only thing that can calm me down. "I know you are. You are a good boy. My good boy."

He throws himself at me, barking, with his tail swinging wildly behind him. People might look, but I don't care. If they look, all they will see is the love between a girl and her pet.

I just have to get to the club and everything will be alright. I'll play my music, and I'll nothing more than the DJ who actually has some talent in playing her music.

I'll be alright. I have to believe in that.

The walk to the club is quiet, and with Flipper by my side, I start to feel better. One day, I'll be over all of this and I will never have to see my mother again. I'll have a good house, a good job, and everything I studied for will be worth it.

I have to believe. Because if I don't, I'll only fall into the darkness, and let it take over me and I can't let that happen. Flipper needs me. He might be only a dog, but he needs me, and that is what matters.

I have to fight for him.

When I get to the alley that leads to the back door of the club, where Niko will probably find a nice place for Flipper with food and water and toys, as soon as I go to work.

Flipper sees them before I do. His tail stops swinging and his barking stops. Three men, all dressed in black, wearing the most fancy sunglasses that I ever saw.

They are here for me. Why? I don't know. But as soon as I see them take their guns out, I know they are here for me. "Hello, Miss Walker. You need to come with us."

I scowl. "Why should I? I don't know you. For all I know, you could be terrorists or something. My mother always taught me to never talk to strangers."

They don't seem to pay any attention to what I say. "You need to come with us, Miss Walker. We can do this the hard way or the easy one." And with that, he points the gun to Flipper.

Oh hell no. That idiot did not just do that.

"Flipper," I call, with hot tears starting to cloud my vision, when I just realize what is about to happen. Love is about sacrifice. Love is about sacrificing yourself for the people you love. "Go to Niko. Go, boy, go."

He looks up to me, eyes shining with curiosity. "Go. Get out of here, go." He stays right in front of me, not moving for a second. Loyal until the end. This is why I have to save him.

I can't kick him. I could never. "Go, get out of here, go!" I repeat, raising the tone of my voice. I never screamed at him, and there was a reason for that. The look that Flipper gives me makes my heart break into a thousand pieces.

Shame. Sadness. _Anger._

"GO!" This time, he runs. Afraid of me. For the first time, he's afraid of me.

I hate it.

He runs, and doesn't stop until he gets through the door of the club. He's safe, I think. No matter what happens, he'll be safe.

"That was a smart choice, Miss Walker," He says, placing his gun back in his belt. "No one has to die tonight, if you do as I say."

"Sure." I'm not dumb to think I could run away, or that I could even try to take on all three of them. They're older, stronger, and they would kill me with just a simple move of their hand.

But I can go down fighting. I will do it.

He begins walking towards me, but as soon as his hand reaches for my arm, I send my fist flying into his face. He grunts in pain and falls backwards, clutching his nose, the blood trickling between his fingers.

I try to swing my other fist at the next man, but it's useless. With one move, he twists my wrist, and pain takes over my entire arm. I never broke a bone in my life, but I'm pretty sure my wrist is broken.

"Make an end." The man says, taking something sharp out of his pocket. "This one will give us a good show, once we fix her wrist."

I never get to see what it is.

* * *

 **Hi. Here you have it, the first three tributes. This chapter we heard from the tributes when they were being taken and next one, we'll hear from them when they wake up. By the way, I know that it wasn't clear, but they won't remember anything. At least, not for now...**

 **We will see each of the tributes twice, one time in here and the next one later.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews so far, I really appreciate it! :D General thoughts on the tributes would be nice and for the submitters, let me know if I did your tribute right!**


	4. Don't Run

**Chapter Four**

* * *

 **The First Day**

* * *

 **Jett Archer, 41, California.**

* * *

A knock on the door snaps me awake.

The first thing I notice, when my eyes slowly start to open, is that I don't remember anything. Nothing at all. There's always a moment in the morning, a small moment of bliss, when I can't remember anything. Who I am, what I did, where I am.

For a moment, I can almost pretend that I'm home, and that he is by my side.

Almost.

However, this is different. I don't remember anything. I don't know where I am, what I ate last night or even who ended up sleeping next to me last night.

The room around me is all white, from the carpet to the walls, with the exception of the curtains, hanging in front of the only window that the room has to offer. They might have given some color to the room, but instead, they only stop me from seeing whatever is outside my room.

It is only when the knocks in the door become more persistent that I decide to stand up, throwing the blankets off me. I'm not home, I know that much. _But where is my home, after all?_

Next to the bed is a chair, covered by two pieces of clothing. A black t-shirt, without any sleeves, and a pair of dark jeans. I need to get dressed, or whoever is outside will make I get dressed.

I mean, I wouldn't mind if someone nice saw me without clothes, it wouldn't be the first time, but I would rather not go that far when I don't even know who is outside that door.

I quickly get dressed, and before I open the door, I take one good look at the mirror. I'm not stupid. Someone else would attack the first person they saw and demand answers, but I know that won't work. The quickest way to earn a person's trust is through courtesy, or like I say, through making them like you.

At least, that is something that I know how to do.

When I open the door, I see who is standing outside. A man, younger than me, is standing outside. With blonde hair and blue eyes, he looks like he could come out of a Hollywood movie. _Damn..._

 _Focus, Jett. This is not the time._

I promised to be good, for my family. If I become a better man, I will know that I did everything in my power to get them back, and to make up for my mistakes. It's what I have to do. For them

"Mr. Archer," He smiles, but I ignore it. This is not the time, not when I am trying to be a better man. If this had happened two months ago, I would have smiled, and I would have taken him to my bed. Not now. "I'm Reid, your personal guard. You are needed downstairs."

Downstairs? "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you are talking about." Reid looks confused, but checks his watch. "Who even are you?"

"Mr. Archer, you're confused. You're in the survivor program, you were selected to join the show. Don't you remember?" As soon as the words leave his mouth, they trigger something in me. It's like a memory, like something I have seen before, but I don't really know where to place it.

I know what he's talking about. "You should take something to help with your mind, Mr. Archer." He grabs my arm and leads me to the couch. "Here, I'll get you some water. And a pill, perhaps, to help with your headache."

I want to tell him that I'm fine, that I don't need any pills, but the words don't leave my mouth. It's nice to have someone that cares about you, someone that _needs_ you.

So, instead of complaining, I lean back in my chair and accept the water and the pill, swallowing it down. "Thank you for the water, Reid. Turns out it's exactly what I needed." I grin, and clap him in the back.

A survivor show. It's not exactly what I thought, but for now, I need to accept it. I know to smile, I need to act like Jett Archer, until I can find out more about this mess I'm currently in.

"Did you say we had somewhere to go, Reid?" He nods. "Lead the way, then. I'm looking foward to meeting everyone else, since it seems I'll be spending quite some time in here."

He offers me a friendly smile. "That's the spirit, Mr. Archer. Please follow me and we might just get there in time." I do as he says, following him down a maze of halls and corridors. When we do get to our destination, I feel like I have been walking for an entire day.

My legs are aching, my feet hurt, and I'm desperate for a good chair.

It's a big hall, twice as bigger as the room I woke up in. Fourteen chairs are placed in a straight line, a chair for each contestant. Right in front of the chairs, there's a big screen, bigger than the one we can find in a movie hall.

"There's your chair, Mr. Archer." He leads me to the chair, labeled _J. Archer, Contestant Number One._ "I'll see you after the presentation. If you want my advice, you should pay attention to everything it says. It will help in the future."

"I'll see you soon, Reid. Don't miss me too much." I wink, and a faint blush appears in Reid's cheeks. When he leaves and more people start to appear, I notice that it's the same for everyone else. A guard comes with them, leads them to their seat, and leaves.

For now, anyway. I have no doubt that they'll be back, as soon as the doors open. Privacy doesn't seem to be a thing around here, as I have noticed.

A woman, with curly brown hair and grey eyes, sits down next to me but before she can lean back on her chair, I can see a glimpse of the label on her chair. _A. Crawford, Contestant Number Two._

I may be trying to become a better man, yes, but it doesn't mean that I can't have a little bit of fun. And, in the meantime, I might as well make some alliances in here.

"Hey," I whisper and nudge her in the arm. "I'm Jett. Do you have any idea of what we are doing in here?" She doesn't even bother looking at me before answering. "We are contestants in the show. We're here to be introduced to the actual show and to know what we are supposed to do, in order to win."

Wow, thank you, Captain Obvious.

"Thanks. What is your name, lovely lady?" I don't feel anything for her. Everytime I look at her or at any woman, for that matter, I see Dean's face and his look of betrayal when he found out what I did. I betrayed him, the man I _love,_ for a few nights of passion.

Never again. However, it doesn't mean that I can't meet new people, and maybe even bring some of them to my side. "Alys, my name is Alys. I would say it's nice to meet you, but that isn't the case."

She might be talking about the situation, but I can't shake away the feeling that she's talking about me. "Oh, this isn't so bad. I mean, it's more fun than a lot of us had in a long time. I'm always up for some fun."

She frowns. "Speak for yourself. I was happy the life I had, before being selected to come into this stupid Game." _Liar,_ I almost say. I'm not a good reader of emotions, but even I can see that she was as unhappy as I was.

It looks like we do have something in common, Miss Alys.

"Oh, me too. I mean, married life isn't that exciting, but it's a good life. I do miss the single life, though, and all the fun that came with it. I felt like a teenager again, being in one of those parties. Don't you miss being a teenager?"

Alys looks disinterested. "No, I don't. Teenagers are stupid, reckless, and they make bad decisions." _Oh, look, a perfect description of me._

She looks ready to finish our talk, but before turning away, she raises an eyebrow. "You say you are married, but you're not wearing any wedding ring, are you?"

 _Shit. You caught me, Miss Alys._ "My husband and I don't like to use any rings. It's not a worthy representation of our love and besides, they are way too expensive. Dean says what matters is right here." I place a hand over my heart and smile.

Everything else might be a lie, but this is true. It was something that Dean used to say, back in the earlier days of our relationship, when I offered to buy him a ring.

 _You ruined all of that. Made Parker and Coleman lose one of their fathers and betrayed the man that stood by your side, through everything that happened._

Yes, I did that. I made a mistake. But I admitted it, unlike many people who don't like to admit their flaws. In my own way of thinking, the sooner you admit your flaws, the sooner you'll find a solution for them.

"Husband, uh?" She whispers.

"I hope you don't judge. There is enough hate for people like me around the world, I'd hate to be faced with more of it in here."

She doesn't say anything, but I do notice the hint of a smile in her face. _I'm winning you over, Miss Alys. I can feel it._

That was when all the lights went off. Whispers came, from all the corners of the room, as soon as the screen light up. _"Welcome, Contestants of the Survivor Program. All of you know why you are here. Some are here for a certain reason, and some are here for another. But, no matter why you are, all of you have a part to play in the program."_

No speaks, and I'm sure that everyone is still trying to process the information. _All of you know why you are here._ Do we? If they had reasons to select us for the show, could it be that they picked me because of what happened with Dean?

" _Here is what will happen over the next few days. You'll be interviewed, you will learn all the survival skills that you need to survive out in the open, without any of the comfort that some of you are used to. One week from now, you will be taken, and you will be living out in the open, for as long as you might handle it."_

As soon as the voice finishes it's speech, images start to appear on the screen. An older woman climbing a wall, a man around my age making a fire, and two teenagers making a camp out of wood.

It's when I realize it. We were not the first ones. There have been people in here before us, also chosen to participate in this survivor program. Then, why didn't I hear anything about this show, before coming here?

 _"More details will be revealed as time passes. But for now, all you need to know is that the last contestant standing will win, and take home the price of five hundred million dollars."_

Damn. That is a lot of money. I could use to send Coleman and Parker to the best schools in the entire world and give Dean everything he could ever want, after I showed him that I'm a changed man.

 _"One more thing, if you wish to give up, feel free to walk out of the door right now. Our associates will escort you to an airplane, and you could be home by the end of the day. However, make no mistake, contestants. If you decide to leave, it will be you and your families that will pay the price."_

* * *

 **Ren Ohara, 19, Oklahoma City.**

* * *

I can't let them see it.

If they think I'm weak, if they see I'm scared, I'll be an easy target. I mean, I'm one of the youngest people in here, and everyone else is already starting to make a plan.

Some are already talking to each other, happy to have someone to talk to in this mess that we are in. Others, like the blonde-haired boy sitting in front of me, are trying to taste a bit of every food placed in the table in front of me.

Not a mess, I remind myself. _A survival show_.

I'm still trying to figure out my place here, and so far, I have absolutely no idea about what it is. Almost everyone in here older and stronger than me. I'm still stuck at nineteen, with a slim figure, less than any boy of my age could hope for. In a show where you can only survive if you are strong, smart or at least a fast learner. I'm neither of those things.

The only thing I was ever good at was making people laugh. My mother used to say that I had a gift, like my friend Matthew's talent for math, since I could make almost everyone laugh at anything I said.

She was wrong. It wasn't a gift. It was the armour I used, to protect me from anyone that dared to come in too close. Outside, I was the charming young man, that could make everyone laugh with a simple gesture. But inside, well, no one ever really knew me.

And what am I doing? Sitting here, staring into nothing, while being completely useless. _Amazing job, Ren. First day here and you are already ruining everything._

"Hey, you over there," I don't glance up from my plate at first, because it can't be for me. I haven't talked to anyone in here and so far, no one made the effort to come and talk to me. "Are you going to eat that or are you just staring?"

The voice belongs to the blonde-haired boy, who is currently eating an apple. "I-I..I don't know. I'm not that hungry, honestly." I say, keeping my eyes on the plate.

A grin appears on his face. "Well, that's too bad. You're just saving more of it for me." He takes a sip of a bottle of hot chocolate, and smiles. "I'm Emmanuel, by the way. Most people call me Noel, though."

No, no, no. I can't do this.

Part of me knows that if I make friends, they'll only end up dragging me down, and I'll be the first one out once the show starts. But the other part, well... It's been a while since I've had a good friend. It's been a while since I've truly laughed.

It's time to change that. After all, who is Ren Ohara without his jokes?

"I'm Ren," Last names don't matter much in here, at least not for us. "Ohara."

"It's nice to meet you, Ren. I'm Noel Johnston. So, how are you feeling about all of this? I mean, it's pretty crazy. I still can't get over the fact that I was picked."

"I'm sure they had a reason to pick all of us. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here." _And I would be home, with my friends and my family, where I always belonged._ Suddenly, a big sense of longing hits me. Longing for Ma and Pa, for Matthew and Athena, for home.

I don't belong here. I don't want to be here.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Emmanuel leans back on his chair, appreciating the view. I have to admit, it's quite a beautiful view. It's a large room, but if we look past the glass windows, we can see the sea.

 _Beautiful things can be deadly..._

It's nothing. I'm seeing shadows were there is nothing, and being paranoid. I should be enjoying this; the chance to eat rich food, to sleep in a good bed, and to actually live in a place like this. Instead, I'm becoming even more paranoid than an old lady.

Not cool, Ren. Not cool at all.

"Any family?" He asks, breaking the silence between us. The full room is not completely filled with silence, due to the small groups that have started to form around us, but it's still awkward.

He seems like a good person, but I can't trust him completely. I prefer to be optimistic about life, yes, but I'm not stupid enough to think that everyone is good and that everything is white. There's black and white, good and evil, even if evil might seem like good when you don't really pay attention.

I'm good to the people I care about and to those that are good to me, but that doesn't mean that I don't hurt that people that hurt me. When people hurt me, I'll hurt them back, maybe in a much worse way. Balance is a necessary thing in life.

I hate to see people hurt, that's true. But if they hurt me, then they deserve what is coming for them. They look at me and they laugh, and they only realize they were wrong to laugh when they finally realize that they had it coming.

"Mother and father, yes." Telling him about Matthew and Athena would be pointless, after all, since they are not really from my family. They are my friends. "You?"

"Parents, too. And a sister." He's not really in there when he speaks about them, but somewhere far, far away. I can see it from his expression. He misses home, I can tell.

So do I... This might be a good place, if I look at it as a vacation. A good place, with good food and an even better bed, but it's not home. Some people might enjoy this, if they want a vacation from their family, but I was happy at home.

I don't want to be here. Why am I here?

"I'm sure they'll crush in a big hug, as soon as you return home. I mean, you know how annoying parents can be. One minute you love them, and in the next they'll be annoying you to death. They're like fast food. One minute you hate it, but you know you wouldn't be have to live without it."

For a split second, I think I've done something wrong. Emmanuel's eyes are wide open, but a second later a grin starts to appear on his face. "That was the worst comparison I ever heard in my entire life."

"I'll take that as a compliment." I say, pretending to be keeping a serious expression, but the weight has been lifted of my chest. I hate to see people unhappy. It's impossible to ignore it, because whenever I see someone that isn't happy, I can't let it slide.

It's my duty to make sure everyone around me is happy. It always has been.

"You should, if you consider that bad jokes are something nice."

"I do, actually. Laughing is good for your health, you know?" One of the things that make me happy are good opportunities for a good joke, just like this one. I mean, for some people, it's very rare to have a good opportunity to smile and get a good laugh. And being the one to provide it for them, well, let's just say it makes my life a lot better than what it really is.

Noel rolls his eyes. "Everyone in the world heard that before." If he would just let me talk, maybe I wouldn't be acting like a fool, around everyone else. I don't really mind, though. I've always been the funny guy, the one that had a joke for every situation, and always made people smile.

"Let me finish, okay?" When he doesn't answer, I keep talking. "You know what else is good for your health? Banana. So, if laughter and banana are both good for your health, are they the same thing?"

I wait for a reaction. A laugh, a scowl, a frown, anything. But instead, Noel just stares at me, without saying anything for a moment. "You know, I haven't been around the world, but that was the worst joke I ever heard."

I shrug. "What can I say? I like to have fun and I like bananas. So, it was a nice joke to do. I'm sure you've heard worst jokes before."

Noel laughs, but I've started to notice that even his smiles are limited. "No, I haven't. We have known each other for like twenty minutes and you've already told me the worst jokes I've ever heard. I can't wait to see what you'll invent next."

"Oh, just wait. I can tell you it will have something to do with bananas, though. The rest, Emmanuel, is a secret. For now, at least."

"You know, Ren, I think it would be great if we could have each other's backs in this. I know we're not supposed to actually make friends," He sighs, running his left hand through his hair. "But it's been a while since I've had someone that I could call a friend. I would love if we could... err... work on that."

"I have a feeling we'll get along really well, Noel. We're the same age and besides, there's no one else in here that I would actually like. You're the only one, man." I'm sure my grin is showing him how happy I feel, but I don't care.

If I can have someone by my side that actually _cares_ about me, someone who doesn't just see the funny guy with the terrible jokes, then this whole experience will be a lot happier than what I thought.

People look at me and they always saw the naive guy, the one who wouldn't last a second in the real word. The thing is, they don't know I act this way because I to. I could be rude, I could be rude, but instead I choose to laugh whenever I get the opportunity. It makes life a lot easier to handle.

He frowns. "Just friends, though?" When I nod, he spares me a smile. It's good, and the fact that I actually made him smile means my plan might actually work.

Noel seems to be a very reserved person, keeping his smiles limited. He was hurt, I can tell. We'll get to that in time

Only someone that suffered before won't understand that laughing and having fun is a necessary thing, when you truly want to live.

I can change that. I can make it better. I can make him smile and see that even the most simple things in life can be beautiful, when you truly look.

Noel might not be my friend just yet, but with a little bit of effort, I can win him over. It will be good to have someone by my side while we play this Game and try to win, even if both of us can't win.

I may not win this thing, but I can change someone's life for the better.

That makes it all worth it.

* * *

 **Breelyn Osborne, 25, Albany.**

* * *

"Are you listening?"

I wasn't listening, but I don't want to be rude, so I just nod. The girl, Genevieve, hadn't left my side for the past hour. We were the first two people to arrive here and she claimed that I looked lonely, so she stayed by my side, talking.

Don't get me wrong, she's a nice girl. I don't know her, not all, but Genevieve seems like the type of girl that brings light and fun everywhere she goes. I just don't want to talk.

I'm still adapting to the situation, after all.

However, I didn't want to make her feel bad, so I sat here and listened to everything that she had to say. Genevieve is a nice girl, I can tell it from the fact that she sat here talking to me, a complete stranger, just because she thought I looked sad.

I'm not sad. I'm still trying to figure out what I should do in this situation, and so far, I'm not sure if it involves making friends.

"Well, like I said, I think this is going to be great," She grins cheekily. "I love to watch Big Brother, it's the best show ever. All the fun, the parties and everything they get to do! Just think about it, Bree, we're going to be right in the middle of it."

"Breelyn," I correct. I never liked when people shortened my name to Bree or Lynn, just to give me a nickname. "I don't really like nicknames."

Spencer called me Bree. Every time someone uses that name, it brings up memories about him, and about everything that happened. _You're free of him, now._

The smile on Genevieve's face disappears for a second. "Oh, that's okay. People called me Vi back in Texas and everytime I told them to stop, they kept on doing it to annoy me. Well, I ended up in New York, and they ended up with a broken nose."

My eyes widen. "You broke someone's nose?" She nods. "Wow. I mean, normally, people just try to talk their way out of it without any violence. It's what I would do."

Gen shrugs. "Well, they were asking for it. And besides, I left for New York two days later and I never saw them again. It doesn't really matter."

Looking around the room, I can see that people are already getting to know each other, and making friends. Very few are still on their own, either enjoying the food or thinking about everything that happened.

Honestly, I don't know what to think.

It's good to be way from Spencer for a while, away from our boring routine, away from all the problems. But still, another part of me knows that I shouldn't feel like that, because it is not right for a wife to be happy that she's away from her husband.

 _And of course, there's something else... Something else to worry about._

"Why do you think we were chosen?" I ask, suddenly. It's something that has been bothering ever since we were introduced to the progam, but I haven't payed much attention to it. _You should..._ It has been at the back of my mind since then, demanding attention. "I didn't really do anything that important. I'm not famous."

Gen's smile brightens. "Girl, with that hair and that face, you should be everywhere on TV." I don't feel like laughing, not really, but what I want never mattered. So instead of keeping a straight face, I offer her a smile.

She claps me on the back and winks. "C'mon, girl, you have to cheer up." She places an arm around my neck, and forces me to stand up. "Look at that," She points to the window. "It's a beautiful day and an even more beautiful place."

She's right. It's a lovely day, with the sun shining and summer in the air. When I look outside, I can only see the sea, and it's far more beautiful than I remembered it. "You're right, it is. I always loved the summer."

She beams with happiness. "Me too! Once all of this is over, you and I should totally go and spend a few days on a beach somewhere, and spend some quality time together. Without the whole pressure of winning, you know?"

I should tell her that I don't care about winning. But truth is, deep down, I do care about winning. I could put the money to some good use, unlike a lot of people in here, who would probably waste it in drinking and fany clothes.

 _Selfish, Breelyn, selfish._

"I don't really care about winning," Gen's eyes widen. "I mean, I will do my best and all of that, but it wouldn't matter to me if someone else won. Like you." I assure her.

She brings me in for a hug. I have to admit, I'm not used to seeing other people doing that. Still, I wrap my arms around her, just like she did with me. All my life, loving someone or hugging or even kissing was something that I had to do, out of duty, and not something that I _wanted_ to do.

It's all new to me.

"But still, why do you think we were chosen?" I can see that she is annoyed that I brought that up again, but I ignore it. This time, I have to. I know that I won't be able to rest until I get an answer, a proper answer, and it's not just for me.

 _It's for the both of us._

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. You heard what they said. We have a role to play, just like in a story! Besides, the reason why we were chosen doesn't matter. All that matters is what we are going to do now that we are here."

So, why do I think she doesn't believe in that completely?

"I think I'm going to eat something, I'm starving." Gen says. "Do you want something for youself?" I shake my head. Just the thought of food right now makes me want to throw up.

"Okay, suit yourself. I'll be right back, friend." _Friend._ I smile at the word. I never had a real friend, not someone that I could say was my friend because they actually liked me, and not out of duty.

It's nice. I suppose people never payed too much attention to a girl who married too young, even if they didn't know it wasn't her choice. My father, the good Pastor Willowbough, arranged my marriage to Spencer Osborne, to connect our two churches.

Out of duty, he said. _You must do your duty to our family, no matter what it means for you._

I hated it, every single minute of it, but I knew there was no turning back. I had to do as my father said, because I was his daughter, and it was my duty to do what my father told me to do. Spencer was a snake. Loveable in the eyes of outsiders, but deep down, only I knew what he was.

A monster.

Gen is doing her best to make me smile, to make me feel right at home, so the best I can do is to show her that her efforts are appreciated. What I want never mattered, not when someone else's hapiness is on the line.

It's all I can do, to try and make the world a better place. To make up for my own flaws, I have to help other people be happy, even if it means that my own happiness won't be achieved.

Gen comes back a few seconds later, with a bottle of vodka on one hand and hot-dog on the other. When I ask her about the vodka, she just laughs. "It's a guilty pleasure of mine, I admit it. Besides, the bottle was just sitting there, asking me to take it."

"Isn't it a little bit too early for vodka, though?" If drinking is so easy for her at this time of the day, well, I don't want to imagine how much she can drink past midnight.

"It's never too early for a party, my friend." She raises the bottle. "To you, my good friend, Breelyn." She takes a big sip of her drink, and leans back on her chair. "Are you sure that you don't want anything?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." In fact, I think I would throw up, the minute I tried to eat anything. "I'm going to get some air while you eat, if that's okay."

I should stay, but I feel like if I throw up on Gen right now, it might not be the best start for a friendship. "Okay, I'll see you later."

Where to go? I could go outside, sit in one of the benches and actually enjoy the summer air for once. Or, I could go and discover what else this place has to offer. I make my decision, but one I reach the front door, I realize it won't be that easy.

"Mrs. Osborne? I apologize, but we're not allowed to let anyone leave, before the hour we have set." He seems polite, so I just nod, turning around and heading for the big door.

Too careful. It's normal that they don't want us to have any contact with the outside world, but this is too much. What if someone actually needed help? Would they let us die?

 _Leave it, Breelyn. Or you'll pay the price._

It's beautiful outside, yes, but it's hot. I feel it the second I walk out of the door, and step outside. I won't be able to be here for long, sine I'm barely tolerant to the heat right now. Most people have started to leave, either attracted by the delicious smell of food or not being able to handle the heat.

It's lovely, even I have to admit it. If it wasn't for the big fence a few feet away from me, this could be somewhere I would actually want to live in. Not with Spencer, not with my father, but with a family that I could actually choose. A loving husband, children who looked like the both of us, and a girl to name after the mother I lost.

It's all a dream. One big, selfish dream that I wish would become true.

 _One day. Maybe._

I sit down in one of the benches, grateful for some time alone. Gen is a good person, a great friend, but I always enjoyed having some time alone. When I really do need to think, being alone is the only way that I can do it.

"You're not really going to stay here, are you?" I didn't notice him when I came in at first, and I can see why. He's sitting in a bench, far away from mine, with his head bowed down and a bottle of wine in his hand.

"Excuse me? Last time I checked, this was free place for everyone, to come and go as they pleased. You don't own the place, either."

"I was here first, in case you didn't notice. You're trespassing, sweety." Normally, I would have left, ignoring this idiot and leaving him to drown in his sorrow. But this man is making me angry, more than I have ever been.

 _Breath, breath, breath..._

"Listen, you idiot. I don't want to get angry, because I came in here to have a good time, so I won't let an idiot like you take away the time I have left to rest before the show begins. So you can either leave, or go back to your bench."

I turn around to leave and go back to my bench, when he finally speaks. "Casimir. My name is Casimir, but you can call me Cas."

"You can go to hell, Cas." I regret it the moment the words leave my mouth, but there is no time to change it now. I can't help everyone in here and right now, I really need to focus on myself.

I place my hand on my stomach, for the first time today.

 _We'll be alright, little one. Mommy will make sure of that._

* * *

 **Hey! Not much to say, but I'm sorry that this chapter was so late. School is over, so I'll have a lot of free time to write. For now, enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **I'll see you soon.**


	5. Heathens

**Chapter Five**

* * *

 **The Second Day**

* * *

 **Abdul Raymond, 23, Detroit.**

* * *

"So, Abdul, how would you describe your life in one word?" Harley, my therapist, sits on the chair in front of me, a notebook and a pen in her hands. This is bullshit, all of it.

From what I remember, all of us have been assigned to a therapist. We're supposed to see them every day, so they an understand who we are and what we want and transmit that information to our sponsors, otherwise known as the people who might or might now help us one we are in the show.

"Bullshit," She sighs, writing something down in the notebook. "Some twisted God decided that an idiot like me should be born, so here I am."

It's fun. I don't like to get people angry because I'm an asshole, no, it's so much more than that. When people get angry, they don't think clearly and they're most likely to show their true colors.

Everyone is the same. They act like they are so good, so pure but on the inside, everyone is rotten. Including me.

However, like other people, I don't pretend to be good. I don't hide between a mask, pretending to be pure. I've made mistakes, but I learned from them. At least, I like to think that I did.

"You know, Abdul, this is going to be hard if you don't cooperate. From what I have heard, my colleagues already have everything they need from your fellow contestants. You're not making my job any easier."

"If you don't like your job, darling, you can always quit. I mean, it's not like you have to work in there. There are plenty of other places where you could work around the world."

She doesn't say it, but I can see it from the look on her face that I've hit the mark. "I like to work in here and to get to know the contestants before everyone else does."

"I'm sure it's great. You get inside their heads, you take out all of the juicy information, and then you hand it to your boss in a silver plate. You do know that privacy is a thing, Harley? It's not fair."

"Tell me about your father, Abdul, and then we can talk about what is fair and what is not." _That fucking bitch. It seems like I understimated Miss Harley, after all._

"What happened with my father is my own business, not anyone else's." It was. They could take anything else, but not that. That was something I buried a long time ago, and I had no intention of bringing it up again.

She turns her chair around, and pulls out a file from the nearest shell. "It seems like it was also the police's business, right before you were chosen to come here. It seems like they were looking for you."

"Why did you choose me, if you knew the police was looking for me? It wouldn't be good for a reality show to have a criminal among its contestants, I suppose. " I know the answer, but I want to hear it from her mouth. It's just another piece to the puzzle I'm building, whose final result will be finding out what the hell am I doing here.

"We're not the police, Abdul, as you'll learn soon enough. And besides, it will be good for the show to have someone like you among the contestants. Every story needs a villian."

I'm Abdul Raymond and I might be a criminal, but I know how to play the game in my own way.

"I'm not a villian, lady, and I refuse to play the part that others want me to play. I mean, look at my father. Sons are supposed to love their father, to respect him, and I killed mine. There's your example."

I'm not a villian. I refuse to believe in that, no matter what other people tell me. I have seen so much shit in the world to believe that there is anything good still around, but I don't go around killing people and making them suffer.

I don't like to hurt people. I might be rude, I might be an asshole, but I don't take any pleasure in hurting people. It's just easier to be like this, when all around me is bad. Good people don't get anywhere. They get hurt, just because they think that showing kindness to a complete stranger is the right thing to do.

That's why they get hurt, and I don't. It's simple as that.

"Why did your father deserve to die, Abdul? When did _you_ decide that he didn't deserve to live and that it was your right to take his own life?" When he attacked me. When he tried to rape me.

I'm not a good person. I killed my father, that's correct. I shot him the stomach, when he got too close and I shot him in the head, when he begged me to stop.

Why did I kill him? I don't know. To this day, I still don't have the answer to the question _Why did I kill my father?._ I suppose I just snapped, like everyone that is forced to endure a situation like that, for eighteen years.

Do I regret it? No, I don't. I finally got rid of all the pain. All of what is left is misery, heartbreak, and anger. But those, well, I can easily drown them in a bottle of gin.

It's all about balance.

"When he got too close, I took out my gun and I killed him. Simple as that. It's survival of the fittest, and if it was between him or me, I would choose me. Every time."

"So, you killed your own father. You seem to be alright with it, so it clearly shows which type of person you are." Harley's blue eyes shine with mischief.

She wants me to fight back. She wants me to say I regret it, or that I don't. She wants a reaction, and that's the exact reason that makes determined to not give her one.

I'm not giving them what they want. Like I said, I play the Game in my own way. No one else's.

For a few moments, none of us moves. We stay still, staring each other in the eyes, waiting to see which one will break first. She blinks and then looks away, a frustrated look settling in her face.

"Well, I suppose we're done over here?" I raise an eyebrow. I want to get out of here as soon as possible, even more now that I've heard we're being introduced to the gym today. Fantastic. I can't wait to break a few bones.

"I just have one more question. If you could see your mother one more time, what would you tell her?" My mother. The only person who ever stood by my side and in the end, I disappointed her too. My mother, who did everything she could to stop my father from hurting me, even getting hurt in the process.

And how did I pay her back? I killed my father, I grabbed my things, I left and I became homeless. Not that she knows that last part, though. It's better that way.

That's why I'm better off on my own. I hurt everyone around me, even the people I care about.

"I have nothing to tell her. That is why I left, otherwise I would have stayed to tell her everything I wanted to." To my suprise, Harley laughs.

"You're a good liar, Abdul." When I try to stand up and leave, Harley grabs my wrist. "One more thing, though."

"I thought we were done here, Harley." I wish we were. It's already bad that I'll have to see her everyday. It's only the first day, and she's already being more annoying than anything.

"If you decide to be smart and make it your main goal to win the show, the producers have something else prepared in store for you."

"Oh?" I scowl. Whatever it is, it can't be good. "I didn't know I was special enough for them to prepare a suprise just for me."

"All of the charges against you in the death of your father will be erased. You'll be free to go wherever you want to go, with more money than you could ever wish to spend in your entire life. And, if you decide to find your mother, you'll figure out she's more than willing to forgive you."

What is this? What are they doing?

"Why are you doing all this? I'm just like the others. This is you, making sure that it won't be fair even before it starts."

"Let's just say _they_ were impressed by you, Abdul. If you want my advice, you would be smart to take this opportunity. And, most of all, it would be good for you if you didn't disappoint them."

Outside the door, my guard is waiting for me. "How did it go, Abdul?"

"Better than what I expected. It was shit anyway, though." My guard, Camille is quite the woman. Tall, but no where near gorgeous.

She's not that beautiful, I've seen more beautiful women than her, but she's good. With curly red hair, blue eyes and freckles on her, she looks like she could come out of a teenage movie, where the ugly girl becomes beautiful by the end of the movie.

But Camille, well, I don't think she is ever turning beautiful. Such a shame.

"If you would follow me, they're about to open the gym. From what I've heard, everything in there is new, all made to get all of you ready for the show."

After going down the hallways and the corridors all over again, we reach the entry of the gym. All thirteen of them, the other contestants are already there, waiting for the doors to open.

"I'll see you soon, Abdul." With that, she goes, leaving me alone with everyone else. I don't talk to any of them, though. I made my own choice, the moment those words left Harley's mouth.

If I want to go home, to my mother and to a life without having to run, I can't make any friendships. I can't look at anyone in here as more than an enemy, or I'll be lost for good. I'll be sent home, to deal with the charges of killing my father,

I have to win this thing, whatever it takes.

 _"Welcome, contestants."_ It's the same voice, the one that welcomed us to the show and explained the rules. It's funny, however, how they never showed their face. _"Today, it's the opening of our gym, built entirely for you. We advice you to pay attention to_ everything _you learn in here, because it might decided if you win or lose the show."_

The doors open.

Inside, there's the biggest room I have ever seen, with everything a gym could ever have. A running track, a pool, an herbs station and everything else we could want. Besides, there's a boxing station. What else could a man want?

People start to leave, choosing to go wherever they please. Some decided on the running track, others on the pool. I don't are where they go.

I decided on the boxing station, seeing as it is the only without anyone in there. Besides, I like boxing. Hitting something will be good to let out my anger, so I can think out clearly.

The game has only just begun.

* * *

 **Casimir Viteri, 28, Rhode Island.**

* * *

She looks exactly like her.

From the brown hair, to the spunky attitude and finally, to the big doe brown eyes. When I first saw her, I realized that I was probably going mad. Hayden was dead, long before her time, and this girl was alive.

A living, breathing reminder of my first love, the one that died because of me. It's enough punishment for me, the terrible, horrible Casimir Viteri to be forced to join a survival contest that I never wanted to join, but I still have to be tormented by woman, who is the mirror image of my first love.

 _Brilliant, just brilliant._

"Are you planning on doing anything or are you just going to stand there?" Since we were supposed to spend the entire day in here, despite a few interruptions, I had to choose whatever I wanted to do. Run, swim, eat and anything that didn't involve sitting around and drinking until I passed out, two of my favorite activities.

 _Shame there wasn't a station that involved a drinking contest._

"Well, it depends if you have a bottle of whisky hidden somewhere in here. Otherwise, I'll just stand here and watch you work."

Instead of becoming annoyed, the girl smiles. "Well, it seems I've found someone that can have some real fun. My name is Avery, like Avery Brooks, from the Star Trek movie. Y'know?"

"I have no idea who that is." I shrugg, focusing my attention on the people using the running track. It would be nice to run again, like I used to do, when I was training to join the fire-fighter program.

It was something that I really did enjoy. Running, feeling the air in my face, made me feel like a whole new person. For a few moments, I could actually forget everything that happened, and become someone else.

It was one of the few moments that made me feel like Casimir Viteri, the _real_ Casimir Viteri, not the shadow of the man I used to be.

Avery clears her throat, placing one hand on her hip. "You haven't told me your name yet, you know? It's rude to not introduce yourself when someone else does."

I could give her an answer that would make her get the hell out of here, as soon as the words left my mouth, but I literally can't be bothered. _And besides, there are more important things demanding my attention right now..._

I catch sight of her, the wavy brown hair, standing in the other side of the room. She's not Hayden, I know that, but there's something in her that is so much like Hayden. Something inside me is screaming, literally begging me to help her, to do something.

She might think that no one knows yet, but I do. When you're quiet, standing in your own corner and minding your own business, it's easier to notice certain things.

"I'm Casimir. Don't take this the wrong way," Or take it if you want, I really couldn't care less. "But I'm not interested in making allies or friends in this place. I'm here to win, just like everyone else."

Is that true? I don't know yet. Anyway, what would I do with the money? I have no one to help, nothing to do, nothing to see. I'll just hang out in there for a while, to show people what I can do, and let the future decide itself.

"Jesus, alright, no need to be so serious. Look around, Casimir." She points in a random direction, and raises an eyebrow. "It will be easier to spend the time when you have someone by your side, and you're not alone."

Well, truth is, it's always been easier for me to be alone. Having someone by your side, someone that you might even start to like and to trust, only ends in pain. When I had Hayden, I was happy but when she was gone, the hole she left behind could never be filled.

"I'll keep your offer in mind, if I ever decide that I need _friends._ " She sighs and nods, finally leaving. I suppose she wouldn't that bad, if I ever decided to have an ally.

Truth is, I have someone else in mind. Someone that I need to protect, someone that doesn't have anything to do with friends, or something like that.

It's so much more.

She doesn't notice me when I approach her, just like she didn't see me the first time we met. "Hi. I'm not sure you remember me." _Be nice, Cas, be nice._

"How could I forget the asshole that screamed at me, just because I wanted to breath some fresh air and sit on a bench?" She doesn't even look at me. Her eyes remain on the book she was reading, something about how to make a fire.

"I wanted to apologize about that. I wasn't very happy that day, and I suppose that I took it out in the wrong person. I'm sorry, Breelyn."

She raises an eyebrow, finally facing me. "The fact that you know my name isn't creepy at all. Well, I suppose it isn't just a one time thing. I just saw you screaming at that poor girl, who just wanted to help you."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes and to make a nasty comment. "She was being annoying when I said I didn't want a friendship or an alliance or anything like that. Besides, I already had my eyes on someone else."

That seems to affect her. Her features relax, and her mouth turns into half of a smile. "Well, if you did have your eyes on me, why were you so rude when we first met? You could have just introduced yourself."

 _Well, Breelyn, there is so much that you don't know about me._

"I'm Casimir, it's a pleasure to meet you. Well, technically we have already met, but we didn't really introduce ourselves before. I'm sorry I was rude, Breelyn. I can promise you that I will try to not let it happen again."

"Well, Casimir, it seems you are not as bad as I thought. But sadly, I'm not planning on making any alliances or friends, just like you mentioned." I see indecision cross her face for a split second, but it's gone in the blink of an eye.

"You need me, Breelyn." I realize it, as soon as the words leave my mouth, that I was a bit too harsh. But it is true, she does need me. If everyone else found out about her _condition_ , she would be out of the show in a blink of an eye. But that's not really what matters, is it? There is something else behind this _survival show,_ something worse.

"Oh, really? Why would I need you? I'm twenty five years old, not three. I can take care of myself, thank you very much." _Leave,_ a voice in my head says. _You don't need her. She doesn't need you._

But I can't. If I left, if I did leave Breelyn all by herself and all of this turned out to be something more than what it looks like, I would never be able to forgive myself.

It's like a second chance. I couldn't save Hayden, but maybe I can save this girl that looks so much like her, and finally do some good in the world.

"You might be able to take care of yourself, I don't doubt that, but can you take care of the little problem growing in there?" I keep my voice down, and point to her stomach.

It's like something inside Breelyn snaps, the moment the words leave my mouth. She grabs my wrist, with an iron grip, and drags me to a corner. It's only by then that I see the knife on her left hand.

She pushes me to a corner, and places the knife against my neck. "If you tell anyone, anyone at all, I will kill you. I don't care who you are or how you found out, I will kill you."

I can't help it but smile. Why am I smiling? _Idiot, idiot, idiot. Why are you smiling? This girl has a knife against your throat and you are smiling? Stupid, stupid._

"I don't want to tell anyone. In case you didn't see, I have no interest in talking with anyone else in here. We can help each other, Breelyn, that is why I'm here. You don't want anyone finding out, do you?"

"Please, I... I can't. If they found out, they would drag me home, and I _can't_ go home. Can you understand that?" Yes, I can, more than she might ever know. But I can't tell her everything that happened with me before, or she would think I was insane, and she would leave.

"Yes, yes, I can. That's why I think we can help each other. I can help you keep that little secret of yours safe, and you can help me. Now, if you would be so kind, please take that knife out of my throat?"

She takes out the knife and lowers it, slowly. "You say we can help each other, but how can I help you?" Oh, Breelyn, you have no idea. It's not like a friendship, or love, or even trust. If I can help this girl, that looks so much like the girl I once loved, I can do something good.

She's my last chance for honor. My last chance to become Casimir Viteri again. My last chance to stop disappointing the people I love.

"Well, you seem to be a smart girl and smart people get far in things like this. You are someone that I would like to have by my side." She nods, and saves the knife in her back-pocket.

"I... I'm sorry I acted so fast. I didn't really think you would do anything like that, but I had to be sure, you know? I just have to protect myself right now. If they found out, they would send me home. I can't let that happen."

I let that slide, because I probably would have done the same thing. If I had some big secret to keep, I would have made sure that I did anything in my power to keep it safe. "It's alright. I'm just I got to come out of this still in one piece, otherwise, there wouldn't be much point in me joining the show."

Breelyn sighs, leaning against the wall for support. "I never thought I would be in here, you know? I thought all I had was my life back home, boring and dull, but now that I'm here, I want to make the most out of it."

I offer her a small smile. _I'll make sure you will, Breelyn, don't you worry about that._

Back home, the life I was leading was one without purpose, without meaning. I dedicated myself to saving people from fire, stop it from taking anyone else, like it took Hayden away from me.

But I wasn't living, not _truly_ living. But with Breelyn, perhaps I can find my meaning once more. It's not about love or friendship or even trust, it's about honor.

It's about making the right thing, by helping this woman and her child.

It's what I must do.

* * *

 **Cirian Costello, 28, Seattle** **.**

* * *

It seems like everyone had found their place.

Everyone but me, of course. However, I wasn't sad or angry or anything like that. Avery seemed like a nice girl, and when she came over and started talking about sports, we just clicked. I can't say I ever felt that happen with a lot of people.

"Yo, Costello!" Avery left for a while to find a swimsuit, but now she's back, and having the time of her life in the pool. "Take off that horrible clothing and go find a swimsuit, girl, the pool is the best thing ever."

I don't want to. It's not that I don't like swimming, because I do, but undressing myself in front of thirteen strangers? But, as my only friend in here so far is a twenty year old, I decide to do as Avery says. I'll be damned if people start to think of me as old.

"Shame you didn't remind me to bring my swimsuit, Castello. It would be my pleasure to beat you in a race to the end of the pool." Normally, I wouldn't do this, but I feel like I can trust Avery. I've watched her, what she does and what she says, and I've seen nothing that could make me uneasy.

"Aw, you wish. Now go get a swimsuit and get over here, or I'll be forced to pull in, clothes and all of that. You heard what they said, Costello, everything you ruin before the show, you'll have to pay."

She has a point. If I want to win this, I can ruin anything of what they give me, before me. Including this precious outfit. And truth is, I do want to win. I can feel it already, determination cursing through my veins. It's simple as that.

I have to win this, no matter how much sleepless nights I have to get through, no matter how much I have to work, until my knuckles turn red. I race over to the old lady standing near the pool, with a little stand of her own.

"Hi!" I say, placing a bright smile on her face. I'm not manipulating her, or anything, just to get her on my side. I'm just being kind. The lady is just doing her job, like I am trying to do mine. There is no reason to be rude to her, and no reason to not offer a small kindness like a smile. "Can I have a swimsuit, please?"

I know from personal experience that a small kindness can change your entire day. "Absolutely," She answers, with a small grin, and hands me a blue swimsuit. "Bathroom is over there, if you don't want to undress in front of everyone."

"Thank you! Have a nice day!" There isn't anything wrong with smiling and being kind, like many other people think. It's always a nice thing, something that never hurts. Doesn't mean I don't know how to pay back when people hurt me, though.

In front of the bathroom door stands a young man, with white-ish blonde hair and blue eyes. I've seen him around, hanging out with a dark skinned girl. Asa and Lilya, I think. If there's one thing people can't say about Cirian Costello is that I don't pay attention to my surrondings.

"Um, last time I checked, this was the women's bathroom. Unless, well, you consider yourself as one. It's completely fine if you do, uh, I was never against that. Just get out of the way, please, I have something to do." I wave the swimsuit in front of his face.

I hate to be rude, but this guy is standing right in front of the place where I need to go, and he wasn't made a single effort to move yet. "I'm just waiting for my friend. It seems both of us are going the same way. I'm Asa."

"Cirian. Could you tell your friend to hurry up? Mine is waiting in the pool, and I suppose she'll come after me if I take too long. That's what happens when your only friend in this entire place is eight years younger than you."

"Am I supposed to be feel sorry for you, sweet cheeks?" Oh, no, he didn't. Sorry, blondie, that is not a weapon you can use against me anymore. Unlike many women out there, I'm proud of my body. I'm proud of who I am.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me, blondie, I just need you to get out of the way so I can get dress this swimsuit and join my friend in the pool."

He knocks on the door behind him, three times. "Lilya!"

From inside the room, comes the lazy reply. "I'll be right outside, Asa. For God's sake, have some patience with me. You do know that women don't get dressed as fast as men do, don't you?"

I can't help it but smile. When I meet women like that, well, we usually end up becoming friends. "Seems like your girl over there has you wrapped around her little finger, aye?" I didn't have anything against blondie over there, but since he insisted in getting on my nerves, I might as well make the best out of it.

I don't usually like to mess around with other people, but once they get on my nerves, I get the motivation to do it to them, two times as worse.

He ignores me, rolling his eyes. "Someone here wants to get dressed, Lilya, so hurry the fuck up."

The girl's tone changes immediately, from defiant to polite. "Oh, sorry about that, whoever is in there! I'll be out in a minute."

"That's alright!" I shout. "You were in there first, anyway. I can wait. It was your friend that wasn't being too polite, anyway, not you."

The girl laughs. "Forgive Asa, he can be an idiot sometimes but underneath it all, he has a heart of gold. I wouldn't hang around him otherwise."

Do I agree with her? No, not really. In my most honest opinion, it seems that all that blondie has that can be compared to gold is his hair, and even that is cheap gold.

Shame.

Lilya takes a few more seconds to come out, but when she does, Asa finally moves away from the door. She's a beauty, that Lilya girl, dressed in a purple swimsuit. "Oh, hi. I'm Lilya, it's nice to finally meet you. You know, face to face, not through a door. I'm sorry I took so long in there, but you know, we need to make sure everything is good before we finally come out."

Asa starts to walk away, a hand on his left hip. "I'm going, Lilya, I've waited long enough. If you wanted to chat, you could have done it after my swim."

Lilya sighs. "Oh, stop being annoying, will you? It's just rude. Can't you seem I'm trying to make a friend over here? It's not all about winning, Asa, unlike that golden brain of yours thinks."

He doesn't even answer, walking away without ever looking back. When he's out of sight, Lilya turns to me again. "I'm really sorry about that. My friend seems to think it's all about being famous, that he forgets the most important things about actually being here." She looks confused for a second. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

I could replay with something sarcastic, like "That is because I didn't throw it", but that's not in my nature. This girl has been nothing but nice to me, unlike the idiot of her friend and I could possible make a friend in here. Other than Avery, who probably hates me, now that I've kept her waiting this long.

"I'm Cirian, from Seattle. You didn't ask, but I'm a sports girl. I played volleyball before coming here, and I love to run." _Played._ That words hurts. I used to play volleyball, it was my life, before everything around me came crashing down. Because of my stupid left hamstring, my future was ruined.

 _Because of you, sweet cheeks. The hamstring didn't ruin itself._

Now, I'm nothing but a failure. I should have given up a lot time ago, and accept what I am, but it's not part of my nature. If I keep working, If I work as hard as I can, it will be worth it.

If people will say anything of me when I'm gone, let it be said that Cirian Costello never gave up.

I don't want to get the fame back, or anything that. Sometimes, it's better to be forgotten. But not giving up, actually knowing that I tried, is all that I can do. It's all I need to do. Honestly, I wouldn't stand not doing anything.

"Wow, volleyball? That's really nice. I was a DJ, well, can't say I ever tolerated anything that made me move too much. I should go now. Asa is probably waiting for me. The longer I make him wait, the more annoyed he'll be. I'll see you soon!" Lilya leaves, with a small wave.

Finally, walking into the bathroom, I allow myself a moment to breath. It's going to be okay. I'll win this. I _need_ to win this. With the right amount of hard-work and dedication, I might be able to win this.

Then why is it so bloody hard to believe in myself?

I quickly get dressed, slipping out of my brown shit and black pants, and putting the swimsuit on. It's beautiful, all blue. It was my favorite color, since I always associated blue with hope. Hope for a better future.

I feel a bit naked, since I'm wearing only a swimsuit to cover my private parts, so I keep my clothes close to my chest. Avery had left her own next to the pool, so I suppose I should do the same.

When I finally do get to the pool, prepared to face an angry Avery, I find a suprise. Avery, Asa and Lilya, chatting while enjoying their time in the pool. When Avery sees me, she smiles. "Costello! Come over here, girl. We were just having a little chat."

And I do, slipping into the pool carefully, picking a spot next to Avery. I might like Lilya and think Asa is annoying, but Avery was my original friend, so I need to stay with her. Loyalty might come in handy in the future. "It's nice to see you two again."

"Cut the slack, Costello, we all know you didn't. Nice tattoo you have in there, though. Didn't think you'd have it in you to do such a nice tattoo." My dreamcatcher. Something I did to make sure I never forgot what I need to do. To catch all the bad dreams and destroy them, while leaving only space for the good ones.

"Thanks, blondie, that was really nice of you to say. I don't mean to be rude, but it's a big pool. May I ask what the two of you are doing here?"

"We started talking to Avery and realized she was nice, so we stayed. Would the two of you mind if we joined you? I mean, it wold be really great to have someone else to talk to." Lilya coughs, one time after the other. "If you know what I mean."

"Absolutely." I didn't think about my answer, for a second, but I don't need to do it. I guess part of me already decided that I wanted her as an ally, the moment we started talking. But then, I notice the look on Avery's face. "I mean, if Avery agrees, that is."

She nods. "Yeah, of course. The two of you would be welcome to join us, if you wish to do so."

Lilya claps, a grin appearing on her face. "That's it! Thanks for letting us stay with you, friends. It's not so easy making friends when everyone around here is so... serious."

She and Avery start talking about random things, like previous lifes and hobbies, with the usual sassy remark from Asa. I don't talk too much but then again, I never did.

I dive into the water, slowly. My injury is better now, but I can't force it too much, or it would become something too bad. But I can enjoy the pool, while my friends talk, and even sharpen my swimming skills.

Swimming makes me feel better. Free, with hope for the future, of finally getting what I always wanted. I don't think I can get any of it without working, no.

Determination is my biggest weapon. Now and always.

* * *

 **Second day is done! Two more chapters and all the tributes will be introduced and by then, trust me on this, things will be a lot more interesting. See you then! :)**


	6. Win or Die

**Chapter Six**

* * *

 **The Third Day**

* * *

 **Emmanuel Johnston, 19, Seattle.**

* * *

"Today, all of you will learn how to fight." We're standing in a circle, all fourteen of us, near a fighting pit. "Learning might be a relative term but at the end of the day, _we_ expect that you will know the basics about fighting."

"I'm sorry but, why do we need to learn how to fight? I though this was about surviving, not fighting." The question comes from the older guy, Jett, standing next to a brown-haired woman. This is so weird, but the more I look at her, the more I feel like I know her.

 _Okay, so now I'm a criminal. Who's going mad._

"You never know what situation you might be faced with, Mr. Archer. We intend on making sure that our contestants are ready for everything, so they'll have nothing to complain about."

Man, the reason we're here is enough to complain about. I should be enjoying my freedom, but I'm stuck in here. In a place I don't want to be in, to play a game I never wanted to be a part of.

"Who will we fight?" A dark-skinned guy, all dressed in green, is leaning against the wall. From everyone I have seen so far, he's the only one that never talked to anyone. He sticks to himself, while doing his work.

In my opinion, he's the smart one. But then again, if there is anything I learned in prison, is that you need someone to have your back, if you are going to survive.

So far, I don't think this place is too different from prison.

"Excellent question, Mr. Raymond." Fiona, our guide for today, seems like someone that doesn't like to talk too much. She's sticking to the lines on the card and doesn't make any more eye-contact than she needs to. "After you learn, you'll have the opportunity to fight with another, whose name is currently on the board behind you."

Abdul turns around and the others follow him, pecking behind his shoulder to see the name. I don't, however. It's not like I hate any of them, because I don't, but I'm not that good with trusting people.

I talk to them, I laugh and cry with them, but trusting them never came easy to me. It's like there was always a wall between me and other people, stopping me from trusting them and from sharing my secrets with them.

Ren comes over one minute later, a cheeky grin on his face. "Hey, man! You're up against someone named Genevieve, it seems. I'm gonna be facing Avery, whoever that is."

That's the thing about Ren. He's nice, he likes to make people laugh. After spending so long in prison, it's been a while since I've met someone like him. But then again, I'm rushing into things. I can feel it, deep in my bones. It will only end in betrayal.

And I can't let that happen. Not anymore.

"Genevieve is the nice one, I think. It won't be hard for you to take her down, even for a small guy like you." I reply. "I still don't get it why we have to fight, though. What will we have to face in the game? A bear?"

The idea seems to make Ren very happy. "That would be great!" He places an arm around my shoulder, but I can't help it but to flinch. "You and me, side by side, fighting a bear together. That is what I call friendship goals!"

I like Ren, don't get me wrong. He's a good person, a boy with a good sense of humour, that took a liking to me. But, sometimes, I feel like he's taking it too far. We'll only be here for a few weeks, anyway. After all, thirteen of us will go home to our old lives, while another one will come back richer and happier than he left.

Why make friends? Why trust people?

It's unnecessary. I know, thanks to personal experience, that it will only end bad. Trust leads to betrayal, betrayal leads to heartbreak. But somehow, the part of me that still believes that people can be good, is starting to trust Ren and to let him in.

God damn him to hell.

"Maybe we should start with something less dangerous, don't you think?" I point towards a punching bag, giving him a little push towards it. "Why don't you start to learn the basics, while I check out our surrondings?"

They gave us a while to walk around, and to get familiar with our surrondings. Punching bags and a big arena, designed for our fighting, stand in the middle.

I intend on using that time to think, to get my ideas in order, and perhaps try to work on my fighting skills. I'm not bad, but I'm not perfect either. After all, in prison, I only need the right skills to survive.

You fight or you die.

"Alright, I will. I guess I'll see you around, then?" I nod, giving him a smile. Ren returns the smile, but it's not his usual grin. It's more like an acceptance smile, I suppose. "Of course, I'll be there to watch your fight."

I watch him as he leaves, shaking the hand of a trainer, while he asks for advice about how to fight. Ren is a good person, but eventually, he'll be forced to do the wrong thing. It will break him, change him for good, until he won't recognize himself anymore.

Just like me. Just like what happened to me.

I start to walk towards one of the fighting stations, approaching a trainer. It's true, I know the basics of fighting. But if there is one thing I learned in prison, is that it can never hurt you to know more.

The trainer is an older boy, maybe a few years older than me. He has short, wavy brown hair and when he sees me, the trainer offers me a small smile. "It's good to see that someone finally noticed my station. Are you here to learn, or do you have any previous experience?"

I could lie and say I had no previous experience, and let him teach it to me all over again, before the fighting started. That way, Ren would see that I'm busy, and he probably wouldn't come over. But why bother?

"I know a bit about fighting, yes." I respond. "Would it be possible to fight someone, before the combats actually began? There's no better way to learn."

He nods, brushing a lock of brown hair out of his face. "Oh, I had been waiting for someone like you. Everyone else seems to think that learning how to fight is not necessary, but trust me, it's always good to know the basics."

I have no idea of what happens, but right there, his words seem strange. I mean, all we have to do is survive out in the wild. Who would we have to fight? Animals? _Each other?_

"Well, I understand why people don't want to learn how to fight. All we have to do is survive, not fight. At least, that is what we were told." _C'mon, tell me something I don't know. Please._

If he seems suprised, he doesn't let it show. "Yes, of course. However, we do want our contestants to be prepared for whatever they have to face. That was part of the contract. Also, there is a reason why all of you were picked."

Oh yeah? Why do you pick a guy that just got out of jail?

He leads me to a small arena, keeping a hand on my arm. Normally, I would have pushed him away, but I feel like I have crossed the line with him already. It's better not to push people too far, if you don't want to see what happens when they break.

He picks up a small quarterstaff, probably left there from another fight, and hands it to me while he picks up the other for himself. "I'll start with a slow pace, and then I'll pick it up, once I see what you are capable of. Ready?"

"Yeah," I say, bringing my quarterstaff up. "Let's do this before the fighting begins." He steps foward, bringing his quarterstaff down. I bring mine up, ready to meet his attack.

The trick is to watch the enemy. Until you learn how they attack, you need to watch them, and figure out how the best way to defeat them. The trainer, for example, always steps foward before he punches.

I step back, the second I see his feet move, using all the strenght in my upper body to kick his staff back. He seems suprised, taking a second to catch his breath. Wood meets wood, time after time. But honestly, I'm getting the hang of this.

I'm even starting to enjoy it.

With every kick I land in the right place, I can feel the confidence starting to creep up on me. If I'm good at this, maybe this means I can win. Maybe, I can get out of this place as a winner.

He brings his staff up to meet mine, but this time, I have another idea in mind. Using all if my strenght, I send the staff against his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. He stumbles back, trying to catch his breath, but I don't give him any chances.

I send the staff flying towards his hand, and he lets out a grunt of pain, letting the staff fall back into the ground. Good, this is good. You win or you lose. But right now, I'm feeling like a winner.

I kick him in the stomach, using my foot this time. He falls back, stumbling, and all it takes is one little push to make him fall into the ground, with me standing over him. I place the tip of the the staff in his throat, making sure he doesn't get any ideas.

"I win."

* * *

 **Avery Castello, 20, Santa Monica.**

"I'm telling you, I haven't felt this good for a very long time." And it's true, at least, part of it is. My muscles might be aching, with sweat running down my back, but I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through my blood.

I had missed the fighting. The adrenaline of kicking someone down, and the feeling you get when you are the one on the receiving end of it. Asa rolls his eyes, passing a hand through the bruise on his left arm. It hasn't even been half an hour after he fought, but the bruises are already starting to show.

Poor Asa, he did get his ass kicked.

We're sitting in a small spot next to the ring where we both fought, clutching our towels and water bottles. It was something I enjoyed doing, but I have to admit that it left me completely tired. I'm used to exercise, as it is something almost mandatory in the training to be a police officer.

"You're insane, Castello. Honestly, I had thought about it before, but now I'm sure of it. Only someone out of their mind would enjoy being beaten down by someone else." He flashes that pearly smile of his at me. "Like you, my friend."

"There is a difference between being beaten down and being the one to deliver the beating." I state, returning the smile. Asa was beaten, fair and square, by the older man named Jett. It's not something I wasn't expecting, though. The guy is twice Asa's age and size, so it wasn't really a suprise when their fight was over in the first ten minutes.

"Please, if you're proud that you delivered a beating to a small asian guy, who couldn't even fight back, then we can't be friends. That's ridiculous."

That's where Asa is completely wrong. I did gave him a chance to fight back, waited for him to make a move, but he didn't. So why drag it out? I like to make things just. He had an opportunity to fight and maybe even beat me.

When he didn't take it, I ended the combat as quickly as I could. Beating him down would have been wrong, but I followed the other path, and gave him a chance to participate in the fight.

"I'm proud that I won the fight, not that I beat him." No one should be proud of beating someone down, for no reason. If they deserve it, it's another story, but it still doesn't make it right. Just, perhaps.

In the ring, Lilya is kicked down by Alys Crawford, with a sweep of her legs. I can't help it but laugh, and even though I try to snuffle it out, Asa notices it. She's my friend, that is true, but the way she fell down so easily is almost comical.

Almost.

No, scratch that. It's hilarious.

"So, in Castello logic, Lilya is having the time of her life over there." He points to the ring. "I can not wait to see how you will comfort your friend once she gets out of there."

I have never been that good at expressing emotion for other people, but I do know how to comfort a friend. A few simple words, a hug or two, and they'll be good as new. It's not exactly what I want to do, but it's what is right.

I might be many things, but I do aspire to follow a moral code, and to know what is right or wrong. Those are the basics of police life and if I will become one in the future, might as well start acting like one now.

"Better than you ever will. After all, we both know you are not into what Lilya can offer you. _You_ were probably having the time of your life when Jett was kicking your ass."

The blush in his cheeks is both inevitable and hilarious, at the same time. Laughter takes over me and this time, I'm not able to stop. I throw my head back in laughter, letting the towel fall from my hand.

There is no harm in laughter, after all. Nobody takes a joke that seriously and if they do, well, the joke is on them. "Okay, stop it, that's enough. Please, Avery, it's not funny anymore."

It takes me a while to get my composed attitude back, but it comes back, it stays. It's out of respect for Asa, since he and the girls are probably the closest friends I have had in a while. It's not really easy to control myself in funny situations, but hey, no one can say that I don't try.

They would be lying.

"Fine, fine, I'm done anyway." My legs are already hurting, from sitting in here for so long, so I decided to go and take a walk around the place. Otherwise, I would probably burst out laughing once Lilya got here.

"I'm gonna take a walk around the place, maybe try and find Cirian." I stand up, passing my water bottle and towel to Asa. He might need them, if he wants to make sure that blush on his cheeks disappears, before Lilya notices it. "I assume you'll be fine without me around?"

He sighs, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "Finally some peace."

I grin, ruffling his hair. "Don't miss me too much, kid. Maybe after I come back, you can tell me all about how it was to fight with the most handsome guy around here." As handsome as you could get in a place like this, anyway.

"Castello!" He calls out, a few seconds after I turned my back on him.

"Yeah?" I ask, turning around to face him.

He frowns. "If you mention this to Lilya, I might have to strangle you. I have a reputation to maintain, after all." And with that, Asa is back to being himself. From the boy who couldn't hold his emotions together, to the friendly guy that we all know and love.

Good. I would hate to work with someone like that, that couldn't even hold himself together. People like that are a mess, and frankly, I rather stay away from them. They would only bring trouble for someone like me, someone that knows how to hold it together.

Keeping a clear head is a key to winning. That knowledge of that stuck with me, through my entire life and right now, it's helping me moving on and focus all of my strenght on one single goal. Winning.

I know he would never hurt me, though. Asa might lose his temper, from time to time, but he is a good person deep down. Otherwise, I wouldn't have accepted working with him in the first place. It would have been better if he and Cirian weren't at each other's throats every moment of the day, but hey, I have to admit that their interactions are pretty funny.

"Point taken." I say. "Make sure you aren't too hard on Lilya when she comes back, or I'll have to remind you of your brilliant failure again."

Asa places both of his hands up. "Hey, Lilya is my friend. If anything, she'll kick me if I get too close. You and Lilya are very much alike in that certain aspect."

"Girl code, kid. One day, I'll be happy to tell you all about it. But right now, I have to find Cirian and see what she is up to. Perhaps she's doing something more interesting than standing here and talking."

"Say hi to Cirian for me, will you?"

"Already done!" I say, before turning away, finally deciding to start moving. My legs were already hurting from sitting in the same spot for so long and I'm still a bit tired from the fight, but I couldn't stand doing nothing for so long. Truth is, I like to work. Relax comes only when the good work is done, when I know that I have done everything in my power to achieve my goal.

Maybe, I can find Cirian around here, and see what she is up to. It's not like she could go anywhere, after all, with all the security that they have kept around us. If someone wants to go to the bathroom, they need a guard. If they want to return to their bedroom, they need a guard.

Frankly, if I were paranoid, I would start to believe that they really don't want us to leave. But why bother, though, when it's only a show? All of us will go home, when the time comes, but only one will leave with the prize.

The prize...

I can't lie and say that I don't want it, because I do, just like everyone else in here. But it's not in my nature to try and take it from somebody else, because it's not right. It's not the right thing to do. Working for it is what I would do, in any other situation.

I just have to make sure that I work harder than everyone else.

* * *

 **Damien Arczynski, 30, Detroit.**

* * *

"I said no. Usually, I stick with my first answer."

Jett Archer seems desperate, running a hand through his hair. Other people might think he is the dangerous one, with his tall frame and threatening eyes. However, I knew the truth.

It wasn't too hard to guess, to be honest. All I had to do was to look close enough and the truth was right there, waiting to be discovered.

It was the woman, Alys, currently doing her best to contain herself. Jett could have a lot of muscle, but compared to her, he was nothing. "Take a look around," Jet said. "You'll see that almost everyone found someone to be with, already. You're one of the last ones without anything to choose from, big guy."

"Listen, is it because I beat the little kid during our fight? If so, a simple well done will suffice and all of us can be on our way, to do whatever we feel like doing."

The look on Jett Archer's face is hilarious. It turns from astound, to shocked and finally, to angry. Good, angry is good. God knows I haven't had the pleasure of participating in a good fight for a very long time.

"If you consider yourself great because you beat up a little kid, then you are even more stupid than what I thought you were in the first place." Alys states.

Jett pulls out a chair, and sits next to me. "Alright, enough small talk. What do you want in return, if we ask you to join us?" Oh, now that is a good question.

I pretend to think for a while, placing a hand on my chin. Truth is, most people wouldn't want anything to do with a guy whose body is almost fully covered in tattoos and spent almost half of his life in jail. I know it, everyone knows it, and that is why I tend to stay away from most people.

But Jett and his side-kick saw me fight and even if I didn't play completely fair, I won. That's what matters. And if they do want me to join them, perhaps I can ask for something in return.

"From you, well, nothing. I'm disappointed with you, Jett, I really am. I thought we could get along and actually have some fun together, but it seems the lady is way more fun than you. You should be ashamed, arrow boy. But from her," I point out Alys with my finger. "Let's say that a little chat, in private, will do for now."

Jett tries to objet, but once again, his opinion is nothing compared to Alys'. She turns to Jett. "It's alright, I can handle him. If he tries anything, I'll make sure he won't be able to walk when the show starts."

I can't help but laugh, although I do feel like there's a little bit of truth, hidden beneath that statement. I wouldn't mind crossing Jett, since he isn't as tough as he looks. But with Alys, I feel like I wouldn't be able to cross without losing a finger or two. Maybe even a leg.

"Didn't your mommy ever taugh you to be honest, sweetheart? I mean, you probably can handle me as much as I can handle you. In the end, I feel like we'd both lose."

People may accuse me of being many things, from a thief to an idiot, but truth is, I've always choosen to stick with my honesty. It's probably because I like to say whatever comes to mind, no matter where I am or who I am with, but it's still a redeeming quality.

It's still something I can hold on to.

But she's already starting to walk away, without saying anything, or even telling me to follow her. "Well, I suppose this is goodbye, for now. Nice meeting you, Mr. Archer."

He just chuckles. "If you think you're getting _that_ from Alys, you're in for a big disappointment, my friend. She doesn't play in your team, sadly."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I enquire, raising an eyebrow.

Worst part is Jett's smug smile, never leaving his face. He knows something that I don't, clearly. Even if it won't take me too long to find out the truth, it's still embarassing and stupid, at the same time.

What an awful combination.

"Oh, c'mon, you don't seem to be someone that is all brawn and no brains. You'll figure it out, eventually. But until then, I suggest you don't make any sudden moves towards Alys. You might end up regretting it."

Is he saying the truth? Probably. Do I believe him? Nah.

Will I regret not listening to him? Probably.

"I assume you are giving me that advice out of personal experience, friend. If so, you shouldn't really be worried about me. Alys and I will get along just fine. Until then, you should try to learn something useful."

Honestly, even I have no idea about what I want from Alys, the mysterious brown-haired lady. I just want to have some fun, since it's been a while since I've met someone that could actually be a challenge to me.

I find Alys leaning against a wall near the spot where we once stood, inspecting her nails. Some people look tough on the outside but wouldn't hurt a fly, like our dear friend Jett, but I'm pretty sure that isn't Alys' case.

Hell, she could earn my respect, just because of the way she looks. But still, I want to find out more about her. And deep down, something tells me there is a lot more to find. "So, here we are. I must say that you have my attention, since you look tougher than most men around here. Not including me, of course."

She ignores me completely. God, we're going to have so much _fun_ together.

"I believe we were here to talk about you, joining Jett and I, when the show started. I've never been a fan of small talk, so if you could get to the point, that would be great."

It's like she doesn't have feelings.

"Well, you see, I'm more than interested in joining _you._ Your friend, however, is the problem. He'll probably be kicked out in the first day while you and I, we could get far. Together."

Alys laughs, but it's not the kind of laugh you'd expect from a woman like her. It's a bitter laugh, one that you'd probably expect from a vilian, in one of those old movies. Good thing those movies were always my favorites. "What, you think I need you? Only one gets to win, idiot."

"We could work to-"

"Jett and I are a package deal. If you want one, you get the other. If you want to join us, fine. If not, even better, because I won't have to put up with you every day."

Nice job, Damien. What to do now?

"C'mon, you can see it as well as I do. He won't get anywhere, because he's weak. You know it, I know it, so why should we let him slow us down? You and me, darling, we could get somewhere. You know it's true. None of us give a shit about anything, because we have nothing to care about."

Okay, maybe that was a bit too offensive. But well, at least I said the truth. They may say a lot of things about me, but everything that comes out of Damien Arczynski's mouth will always be the truth.

I am not about to change that for a woman I just met. No matter how good looking she is. Not matter how alike we are.

Nope.

No way in hell.

Alys seems to consider her next answer, and to ignore my statement completely. Oh well. "If you want to get rid of Jett, you'll have to get rid of me. For your own sake, I'll choose to ignore what you just said. I'll let Jett know that you said yes."

She turns to leave, but this time, I'm ready. "You know, you can pretend all you want, but you don't fool me. You might be beautiful on the outside but inside, you're ugly. Rotten. We both are. So, if you don't want your friend to become someone like us, I suggest you take my offer."

And this time, I'm the one that turns to walk away, without even paying attention to her reaction. Oh yes, this is going to be fun.

* * *

 **Hi.**

 **Well, it's been a while. But I'm back now, and I promise the next chapter won't take this long to come out. Don't worry, though, I'm not giving up on this. Never. No matter how long this takes, it will be finished.**


	7. The Downward Spiral

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

 **Testing Day**

* * *

 **Erica Schmidt, 32, Queens.  
**

* * *

I'm not someone that likes to wait.

But still, in this situation, I have to admit it's not that bad. Maybe it's the good weather outside, making everything brighter or maybe even something that they gave us at breakfast. I have no idea. What I do know is that time seems to be flying by, and for someone like me, it doesn't happen too often.

We are sitting together in a small room, one that none of us has ever seen before. It doesn't suprise me, though, this place is huge. Rooms, gym, kitchen... Who knows what else we haven't seen just yet. Every now and then, a brown-haired lady comes in to pick up one of us and to take them away. Wherever they go and whatever they do, it's still a mystery.

"Hey, are you alright?" The girl to my left, or should I say woman, whispers. I stop myself from lifting an eyebrow. I've seen her around, it's not very hard to notice someone with a loud personality like her, but I can't say that we ever talked. Hell, I don't even know her name. Jenna? Jane? Ginny?

Still, I've never been one to ignore people, even when I probably should.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" _Damn it, Erica._

She's clearly asking because she was being nice, and I couldn't even say thank you. Typical Erica behavior. "I don't know, you looked so grim, figured I would just ask. After all, everyone needs a friend in this place."

Is that true? Well, I don't know. I had friends back home, people I knew I could count on, but this place is different. One day you meet someone, the next one they aren't there anymore.

I could use a friend.

With that figured out, I put on my best smile, unwilling to let my sadness ruin whatever chances I had of making a friend in this place. "Hey, you're right. I'm Erica." I hold out my hand, waiting for her to shake it.

"Genevieve, but seeing as that is awfully long name, you can just call me Gen. I would appreciate it a lot, my name can be a mouthful to say sometimes. My best friend, Kelsy, she got me that nickname."

"It's a good nickname. Well, you're lucky someone was able to get you a nickname, I mean, look at my name. It's even more weird."

Gen lays back on her chair, next to me, and places a hand on her chin. I don't know what it is, something about her expression or the way she's behaving so far, that makes me laugh.

I need that.

Wherever we are going, I need someone like that, someone to make me laugh, and to erase all the bad moments I might have in the future.

One thing I know. If I don't keep Gen around, depression and anxiety will catch up to me, and I'll have no choice but to drop out of the Game.

I can't do that. I can't go home empty-handed.

Suddenly, Gen gets back on her feet, smiling. I know that smile. A thousand-watt smile, one that can win over anyone around you, if only you are smart enough to use it.

"Rica! That's it. Rica is a perfect nickname for you. Erica becomes Rica, just like Genevieve became Gen. Gen and Rica. Yeah, I like the sound of that."

I have no idea why, but something tells me that Gen, this new friend of mine, is going very far once we begin the Game.

I want that too. I want to get far, I want to take all the money home, and pay back to my family. My father, my mother, my sister.

I want to give them the life they deserve. Maybe, if I go home with all of that money, my father will finally be able to look at me and say he's proud. That he'll finally be able to see that his daughter was a runner because that's what she loves, but that wasn't completely useless.

I can do it. If all I have to do to get that is to pretend to be friends with one girl, one I might even like in the future, then so be it.

"Rica, uh? Yeah, I think it's perfect," A nickname? Really? "Rica, the star runner." I didn't realize I said that outloud. Shit.

Gen's eyes become the size of golf-balls. "Wow. You, my friend, are a runner? Really? I never met a runner before. Y'all sound so arrogant on TV." It's only then that Gen realizes what she said.

"I mean, clearly not you, you've been great since we met like five minutes ago. Most people would have been annoyed with me, but I like someone who doesn't judge. We are who we are, right? I'm Gen, you're Rica and if we can get along, I suppose we must have something in common."

 _Make a joke. C'mon._

"Yeah, we do. Our amazing good taste in picking a friend, when we aren't even supposed to talk to each other." It's supposed to be a joke, but Gen takes it seriously, nodding and lowering her voice down.

"I know, right? This place is so creepy. I mean, I've tried to talk to other people before, but besides Breelyn and Casimir," She points to a brown-haired girl and a blonde guy, sitting together, a few chairs away from out own. "They're ignored me. Completely. Something about playing the Game, not being here to make friends."

"Don't worry. Once we get to the Game and when we win over all the boys, we'll show them who is the boss." Gen is about to answer me, when the brown-haired lady enters the room, a clip-board in her hands. "Miss Schmidt? Please, come with me."

I stand up, using my hands to straighten my jeans. "I'll see you around, Gen, whenever all of this is over." She nods, smiling at me. "Good luck, Rica. Show them who is the boss."

Oh, I will. When I win this.

* * *

 **Asa Richgels, 24, Verona.**

* * *

"Please sit, Mr. Richgels. Your test will begin shortly, after we have gone through all the necessary procedures." I take my seat in the chair, doing as the lady instructed.

"Of course," I smile politely. "Take as long as you need, I don't mind waiting." That seems to please her, as she offers me one last smile, before letting another man take her place.

Simple courtesy, of course, but being polite can always get you far. Besides, I like treating people like this. Some people have an explanation for why they are nice, or rude, but I don't. It's just who I am. Simple as that.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Richgels. My name is Bronn and I'll be administering your test. If you have any questions, I'll be most happy to answer them, as long as you do it before the test begins. After that, I'm afraid I won't be of much help to you."

"What is this about? I mean, what will I have to do?" I thought about not asking anything, and remembering my place, but I'm curious. Might as well be prepared while going into something like this, instead of not knowing what I am about to face.

"You'll be given a series of choices, and according to your answers in each one, you'll be given a score by our production team. Don't worry, Mr. Richgels, it shouldn't be too hard for a young man like you, still in good shape."

Wait, what? Good shape?

"Wait, but I'm not doing anything physical, am I? I just assumed, since we're standing in a room, not in the gym or outside." They had physical tests before and although Asa was never that good, he passed. Even in a fight, he passed.

Even fighting or running would be better than this, standing in this room, not knowing what was about to happen. "No, you aren't. Please, put the glasses and the headphones on, Mr. Richgels. It's time."

I put the headphones on, first, followed by the glasses. The glasses looked like those I'd used in the movies, whenever me and the others went to see a 3D movie.

My friends. God, I miss them.

When I'm all set, and can't see nothing but pitch black, the man from before hands me a small cup. "Drink this, Mr. Richgels, and we'll be all set to begin."

Should I fight back? Perhaps, since there's a part of me telling to accept no drink from this strange man. But then again, what would happen? Would it be worth it? Not really, no.

I drink everything down, in one sip, and give the cup back to the man. That's when I hear his voice, one final time. "Good luck, Mr. Richgels. May the odds be ever in your favor."

Everything turns black.

The first thing I realize, when I can see everything clearly again, is that I have left the room. I don't know where I am, but around me, all I can see is trees.

That is when I notice the rest. On my left, there's a backpack and on the right, there's a knife. A sharp, yet small, hunting knife. "Choose."

What the hell? I turned around, looking everywhere, but there was no one around. Just me. And this imaginary voice in my head, of course. "Choose." There it is, again.

A backpack could probably be more useful, whatever happens. Besides, what would I use the knife for? I've never killed anyone in my entire life and honestly, I'm not planning on starting right now.

I pick up the backpack, placing it over my shoulders. When I do, the entire scene changes completely. In front of me, there's a bear.

Holy shit. A bear.

A real, living bear, standing right in front of me. Holy shit. The backpack I picked up is still there, so I could try to reach it and open it up, but I do have a feeling that when I move, so will the bear.

 _This is your test, Asa. Your real test. Are you brave or are you a coward?_

A few feet behind me, there's a path, filled with rocks. Some big, some small. I'm not very tall, I could hide behind one of those rocks, and wait for it to go away.

But what's the point?

I make my decision a second later.

I turn around and run, faster than I've ever ran in my entire life. It turns out I was correct and the second I start moving, the bear follows me. I quickly slip the backpack out of my shoulders and throw it at the thing, before I start to sprint again. It seems to distract it for a while. Good.

When I finally reach the rocks, though, I realize it was useless. It's right behind me. _God, Asa, breath._

There's a rock of medium size, a few feet away from me. I could pick it up and throw it at the thing, I'm strong enough. _Do it. Be strong. Do it._

But I can't. I realize that after throwing one of the rocks at the bear, when it howls in pain. I can't take a life, without any reason, even if this is just a game. An illusion. I don't care. It's the same thing. I'm not changing who I am, just because of some people I don't even know.

I let go of the rock, letting the bear have its way with me. When it strikes, I wake up, feeling better than I was before.

I know who I am. That's all I could ask.

* * *

 **After**

* * *

The next day, the contestants were awaken by a knock on their door. Outside, there was a guard, waiting to get them downstairs, where the final scores would be announced. Some were excited, some were not, and others just wanted to get it over it. But everyone, in one way or another, just wanted to get to the Game.

Little did they know, the horror and pain that waited them, would soon make them wish they had never set foot on the island.

* * *

They were lead to a room, with fourteen chairs, that resembled the room they had been in, the first time they learned about the Games. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it wasn't.

They would never know.

The guards announced that the final scores would be revealed once everyone sat down, in their rightful places. And with that, fourteen guards left, locking the door behind them.

There was no where to go. No where to run, once the final suprise of the night was revealed.

The atmosphere around the room was tense, small groups talking in whispers. Friends sat together, talking, lucky enough to have been placed together. Others, not so lucky to sit near their friends, had to remain calm and wait for the end.

Whatever that would be.

Alys and Jett sat together, the mood between the two not very different than what always was. Alys was scared, deep down, but refused to let her weakness show. She though of Ketta and their daughter, and she felt the strenght coming back to her.

She would win this thing. She had faced way too much her entire life, to let herself be scared by a simple game. She had to win, simple as that, and come back to her family. The only problem, of course, was if they would want her back.

By her side, Jett wasn't being so confident. He was holding back against making a joke, against making Alys smile, because that wasn't the time or the place. He had disappointed his family and lost them, because of that, but he would not make the same mistake with Alys.

If all he could do for his friend was be there for her, whenever she needed to talk, then so be it.

Lilya and Asa sat together, grateful enough to have each other's company. Both were chatting happily, unware of the tense atmosphere around them, even making a bet about which one would get the highest score.

Asa, willing to play the class clown to make everyone laugh, started winking at Cirian, making her frown. Next to them, Avery could only watch as her friends had fun together, while she stood alone. That didn't matter, though, she wasn't jealous or angry. She was okay with it. She had a code, and it wouldn't be Asa Richgels that changed that.

Ren and Noel sat together, the distance between them growing bigger with each passing moment. While Noel thought it was for the best, since he know how dangerous it was to be attached to someone, Ren was hurt. He thought he could find a friend, in a place as strange as this. He was wrong.

Because, in a place like this, nothing was what it seemed.

* * *

The voice, coming out of the speakers, quickly explained them the scores. They would be awarded a score, from 0 to 10, and that score would be very useful in the game area. How?

They did not know.

Jett scored a nine, for his strenght, leadership, and his happy personality. The producers liked someone that could brighten the day, and for that, they gave an eight to Jett.

Alys didn't do so well, gaining a seven. A respectable score, of course, but nothing compared to Jett's nine. She didn't care, though. What would it matter, in the game area?

Erica was awarded a score of six, for her wins in the training day, and for her good score in the final test. That gave her the hope she needed, in order to find determination for the game.

Damien got the highest score of the night, beating Jett, with a score of ten. What had he done to earn it? No one else, but Damien himself knew.

Genevieve, the brightest contestant, earned a six, matching Erica. Her fist went high up, with a victory cry. Other people gave her weird looks, but Gen didn't care. She was proud of herself. That was all that mattered.

Casimir's score was the lowest so far, a five, but it was not like he cared about it. He didn't care about himself any longer, Breelyn was all that mattered. Getting her to win was all that mattered.

Cirian watched with expecting eyes as an eight appeared next to her picture, and couldn't do anything but grin. Determination would get her to where she belonged. That was only the start.

Breelyn waited, and waited, until her score appeared. When she saw a seven next to her picture, she allowed herself to hope. She could win. She could get away from her husband and raise her baby far, far away from him.

When a six appeared next to her picture, Lilya's hand found Asa's, and for a moment, both of them smiled. A second later, however, their hands separated, a faint blush appearing on Lilya's cheeks.

If Casimir thought his score would be the lowest, he was wrong. When a two appeared next to Asa's picture, he couldn't be sad. He had done the right thing, and for that, he would never be sad.

Abdul couldn't care less about the scores, or about any of that, but when he saw a six next to his picture, he couldn't help it but to be satisfied.

Avery had been training to be a police officer, before all of that happened, so it was no suprised when an eight popped up next to her picture. Fair and square, just like she liked it.

Ren, however, wasn't so lucky. Like Asa, he had refused to play the Game, and he would pay the price for it. A one appeared next to his picture, giving Ren Ohara the lowest score.

Noel, being last, was already expecting the worst. However, he was pleasantly suprised, when a seven appeared next to his picture.

With the scores presented and awarded, the screen went black, before quickly coming back to life a few seconds later, when something appeared on it. A watch-like device. _"When you enter the area tomorrow, you will be given one of those. It will allow you to see how many of you are still in the Game, but more importantly, it will allow you to use your points. The rest, contestants, you will learn tomorrow._

 _"Sleep well, tributes. We'll see you in a few hours."_

When people started to notice it, it was too late. The gas-like substance was already entering the room and with the doors locked, there was no where to go. The contestants started to drop like flies, one by one, falling victim to the gas.

The gas meant to return their memories.

* * *

 **So... hi there, guys.**

 **It's been a while. No, I'm not giving up on this story. This story is my baby and I really don't want to give it up. I have a lot of plans I still want to do. So, I'm back. The blog will be back on later today, too, I'm just changing it up a little bit.**

 **Also, next chapter, we enter the arena, and the contestants find out the truth. It shouldn't take long now, I have the next chapter halfway written, and my motivation is back!**

 **See you all soon.**


	8. Living Dead

A/N: Before you start to read this, I recommend listening to "Light of the Seven", in the Game of Thrones soundtrack. Trust me.

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

* * *

 **The Truth**

* * *

One by one, they started to wake up.

As they woke up, their memories started to come back to them. Alys and Noel, remembering their small time together, Gen remembering Kelsey. Her best friend. Somehow, someway, she was still proud of taking her friend's place.

It was worth it. Kelsey did not deserve whatever was coming to get Gen and the thirteen other people surronding her, as confused as she was.

That's when they heard a new voice. A man, not the one they had heard before, his voice echoing through the walls.

"Hello, tributes. I'm sure all of you must be confused, but allow me to explain. All fourteen of you were asleep for a few days as we made a few... alterations, to put it that way. In a few minutes, you will be allowed to enter the game area. Once you're there, I'm afraid it will be a fight to the death - until one of you remains."

The room was quiet.

Damien was the first to speak up, recently woken up, but still proud that he managed to fight the people that had captured him. "You must be insane, if you think we'll kill each other. Commit murder. For someone who doesn't even have the guts to show himself."

A scoff was heard. "I don't think anything, young man. One way or another, thirteen of you will die and one will come out alive and will be allowed to go home. It doesn't matter how it happens. Although, I must warn you, things will be much better for you, if you cooperate. If don't, you might want to take a look at your neck. While you were sleeping, we injected you with a small device that when triggered, will kill you."

"One last thing, tributes. May the odds be ever in your favor."

No one knew what to do.

* * *

It was finally time.

Below them, the doors had closed, and the control room had sprung to life. Hoster Manderly stood at the center, surronded by his fellow workers. They might have played a small part in the creation of the hunt, but he should be the one to get all the credit

He had ended the Salvatore family, finally making sure that they would pay for the crimes that they had commited. A price of blood. _Exactly like the one they were about to pay._

"Boss, should we open the doors already?" One of his assistants asked, a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes. Many of the people that had worked for Salvatore and his family had chosed to stay, and continue their work for the Hunting Games.

Hoster wasn't suprised, though. Unlike Salvatore, he had chosen to participate in every event, and even accepted the money from the benefactors himself.

Someone in their position needed to inspire loyalty, otherwise everything would have been for nothing. People needed a great leader they could unit under so that together, they could fulfill a greater purpose. "No," He answered, shaking his head. It wasn't the right time, not yet. "Let them have a little fun first."

That was his strategy. Push them to the breaking point, to make sure they thought everything was lost. And then, when they thought nothing else could be done, give them a little bit of hope. Just enough to keep them going for a little longer, so the benefactors could have their fun.

Part of him didn't understand why people payed so much money to hunt others, when they could have been enjoying life on a beach somewhere or even travelling around the world, but it wasn't his job to understand either.

His job was to keep up tradition and to make sure that they liked it enough to come back the next year, and donate their money once more. Some people could call it unfair, cruel, inhumane, but Hoster had a better word for it.

A cycle. Survival of the fittest, where the poor fell, so the rich could have their fun.

It wasn't fair, but then again, when was life fair to anyone?

With a sigh, Hoster pushed the red button in front of him. Fourteen pictures appeared in front of him, next to details of a life that didn't matter anymore. If they wanted to survive, they would have to leave it all behind. Love, loyalty, empathy, none of it mattered.

All that mattered was survival. But what could they possibly do, when the odds were already against them?

 _Blessed be America, a nation reborn._

* * *

A few stores beneath the control room, the contestants were still trying to figure out everything that was happening. Some had stayed together, hoping that they would have a better chance of facing whatever was coming with a group, while others had started to slip away.

However, all of them had one thing in common. They had no idea about what was coming.

Ever since the doors closed, Casimir had hold on to Breelyn. He kept his hand on her arm, while making sure that she stayed next to him. If they had to run, no matter the reason, he needed to have her by his side. No distractions, no delay.

And right now, Casimir's instinct was telling him to run. To get as far away from them as possible and to find a safe place.

But if he ran now, Breelyn would have to stay behind, and Casimir would probably lose her for good. She was a little annoying, yes, but she was his last chance for honor. His last chance to make up for everything he had done before and if he let her slip through his fingers, all of that would have been for nothing.

He had to stay. _For now._

Everything might have been dark, save for a few lamps near them, but it wasn't hard for Casimir to realize what was happening. And finally, for the first time in a week, everything started to make sense.

They were not there for a survival show, he knew that much now. It was another kind of show, and Casimir was sure that it didn't end with any of them winning.

Nex to him, Breelyn was awfully quiet. She wanted to be angry, to be scared, to feel anything at all. But right now, she couldn't. All she felt was numbness, taking over her, making any other type of emotion disappear.

She wanted something to happen. Be it good, or bad, anything else would be better than the suspense the producters had left them with.

And soon, she got her wish. The metal doors in front of them opened, and everything started to happen at once. She had no time to think before Casimir grabbed her wrist, and started to run, pulling her away with him.

She couldn't go. Not yet. Genevieve, her _friend_ , was still in there. No matter what situation she faced, Breelyn Osborne had never left anyone behind. _No one that could be saved._

"We need to go back," She told Casimir, but he never stopped. "Genevieve is still in there." Once again, he didn't reply.

It was only when she teared her arm again from his, that he turned back to look at her, furious. "Genevieve doesn't matter anymore." Even then, his voice was nothing more than a whisper.

She was about to reply, to remind him that _everyone_ matters, when he did exactly what she wasn't expecting, and clasped one hand around her mouth.

Breelyn wanted to fight back, to do something but then he turned her body around, pressing it against his, to face whatever Casimir was running from.

"Look at them," He whispered in her ear. "You're a smart girl, Breelyn, you'll figure it out soon enough. And when you do, let me know if you still want to go back and find your friend."

Casimir was right, after all, it didn't take her too long to figure it out. She saw them from a distance, with their bulletproof-vests and their weapons, and realization hit her, cold and hard.

"W-we're being hunted." She whispered and realized that just like Casimir's, a few moments ago, her own voice was nothing more than whisper. _I don't want to die. I can't die._

Not today, not here, not now. She couldn't die, when there was still so much left to say, so much left to do. If she died right now, nameless in a place where no one would even care that she was gone, all of it would have been for nothing. "Still want to go back for your friend, Bree?"

She couldn't. But was it right, to leave Genevieve all by herself, when she had been the first person to show her any kindness in that place? Of course it wasn't. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It went against everything that Breelyn believed in.

But when it was her life, her child's life, against the life of someone that she barely knew, Breelyn knew exactly what she had to do.

Swallowing down her pride, with guilt threatning to tear her apart, Breelyn grabbed Casimir's hand and ran. _I'm so sorry, Gen._

* * *

A few miles away from them, Abdul tried to find a way out. Every time he hit a dead end, he couldn't help it but scowl, but he kept moving. If he stayed there, like the others had done, he was dead.

He couldn't die. Hell, what was the point to die now, after facing and surviving so much in his life? There had to be something more. Something good, waiting for him, to make up for everything bad that he had to endure.

He had to believe in that. If he didn't believe that he could survive, that he still had something good reserved for him in the future, then he was as good as dead.

For the first time in Abdul Raymond's life, belief was the only thing that would be able to keep him going. It was ironic, of course it was, and maybe one day Abdul would sit down and have a good laugh at the cost of everything that was happening.

At the moment, he needed to survive. He needed to keep moving, if he wanted to life another day, and maybe even live long enough to see his twenty-fifth birthday.

 _Keep moving. Don't think, and keep moving._

* * *

However, not everyone was so lucky. Ren was literally stumbling around, trying to find a way out, while he looked for Emmanuel. He had to be there somewhere, of course. Renn wanted to believe, despict what his instincts told him, that Noel hadn't left him. He couldn't, he wouldn't. Why would someone abandon a friend?

Ren had no jokes, no smile, nothing. He just wanted to curl up in a corner and cry, until all of this was forever. But this wasn't just something that would go away in a while, like an headache, it was something that Ren would have to deal it. Liked it or not.

He needed to deal with it. He had been so focused on growing up, on being more serious in order to be a good friend that Emmanuel would actually like, that he had forgotten about himself.

He had forgotten the most important thing. For other people to like you, you need to like yourself in the first place. He cleaned the tears, that had started to appear with his sleeve. It was time to be strong.

Unfortunately for Ren, someone else had already decided his future. Aurora Marien wasn't a first class hunter thanks to all the money she owned, and not even thanks to her skill with weapons. For her entire life, Aurora had searched for a purpose, something to keep her going, something to motivate her.

She had found her purpose in killing and the hunt. And, in her own twisted sense of luck, the man that she ended up marrying was exactly like her.

It had come down to that. Ren, a slim, nineteen year old against Aurora, a trained killer. But it wasn't her training that made her dangerous, or even the twin swords that she carried, one in each hand.

It was the fact that she actually enjoyed it.

Ren had a choice to make, with only two options to choose between. He could give up and make Aurora's job even easier or he could fight and if he died, he could die with a little dignity and maybe have a chance to escape.

Maybe. Just maybe.

He hoped that if Noel was watching, he would proud of him in the end. Aurora was already circling him, a sword in each hand, and a twisted smile on her face. And when she smiled, everything that Ren had learned about fighting, came back to him.

 _She's small._ If he could start with a jab to the throat, confusing her long enough, he would have a chance to escape. He sent his fist flying into her throat, hitting her on the left side. Aurora stumbled back, taking a moment to catch her breath.

But as she caught her breath, her anger grew even more. They weren't supposed to fight back, they were supossed to be for her own enjoyment. Why the hell was she fighting a child?

Ren tried the same move again, but this time, she was ready. She grabbed his wrist, twisting it, with all the strenght that she had. Hot, burning pain washed over Ren's arm and he bit his tongue, crying out in pain.

Aurora ducked under his arm, using her size to her advantage. Pressing her body against his, she sent her right elbow flying into his face. Ren stumbled back, he tasted blood in his mouth, probably from a broken tooth. He had been ready to make a next move, but it was too late.

The last thing he saw was Aurora swinging her sword towards his neck, and then, everything turned black. Ren Ohara, a sweet and caring boy, was the first casuality to a vicious circle of death.

One that wouldn't stop until more blood was shed.

* * *

A few miles away from the first murder, two friends ran, clinging to each other. Alys and Jett, two unlikely allies, stayed together, pullling each other away from what would probably cost them their lives.

Actually, Alys was pulling Jett away, trying to get the older man to move.

Jett was starting to break. For the first time in his entire life, he had no joke to make. No joke, no comment, nothing to say. Inside, he was numb. He just wanted to give up, to sit down, and to let the people behind them catch up to him.

What was the point anyway? To live, he would have to kill. Alys, Damien or even one of the younger ones. To see his family again, he would have to take a live.

To live with blood in his hands, for the rest of his life, how long that may be.

Jett wasn't sure if he could, or wanted, to do it.

Alys, however, was doing her best keep going. More than that, she was fighting against her instinct to run away, to leave Jett behind, to care for herself like she had always done, without anyone slowing her down.

But she couldn't. Unlike Jett, she wanted to fight. There was a tiny spark, inside of her, reminding her of what was left. Of Ketta, of Emma, of her family.

Of everything she hadn't said, hadn't done. There was still so much left to do, so much left to see.

She couldn't give up. Jett was there for her, before all that madness happened, so now, she needed to be there for him. To be a better person, to stick by those who were loyal to her.

Alys had always wanted a chance to become a better person. Maybe, this was fate's twisted way of giving it to her, a chance to prove that she was a good person, deep down, good enough for Ketta and Emma.

She just had to take it.

He couldn't take it anymore. Jett released Alys' hand, with a sigh, and let himself fall down. He couldn't take it anymore. The fear, the guilt, they were eating him alive.

It was only a matter of time before they started attacking Alys, and that was something that Jett couldn't let happen. Not on his watch. He had disappointed people before, his family, and he had swore that it would never happen again.

Not to Alys. Not to his friend.

"Jett," Alys called, stopping by his side, with a sigh. "Jett, you need to get up. Look at me, we need to keep moving." Her words didn't mean anything, not right now.

It was like she was speaking another language, one that he could never understand. "Jett!" It was only when Alys' hand hit his face, with a hard slap, that he looked at her. Really, really looked her.

Maybe for the first time ever.

She was tired, like he was, maybe even more. Those were the grey eyes, the brown hair of a woman that had been broken and then put back together, so many times, just like he had.

"We need to keep moving," She pointed to the faint shape of a building, far, far away. "You see that? There's where we need to go, so we can keep a good distance between us and them. We need to do it, Jett. I don't know about you, but I want to live. I need to live."

Did he want to live? Of course he did. For his husband, for his boys. "This is about how you want to live, Jett. You can stay here and die as a coward or you can come with me, and maybe, we'll get to live another day."

 _A coward or a survivor. Make your choice._

He couldn't do that. Not right now. All he could do, right now, was to keep going. For Alys. To not disappoint someone else he loved. He couldn't.

To keep going was all he could do.

* * *

 _Keep running._

 _Don't look back._

 _Ren._

Noel kept running, running and running until his legs ached, until he couldn't move anymore. The carnage, the deaths were all behind him. However, if he didn't keep running, it might soon catch up to him.

Ren. He had left Ren behind, not caring about what would happen to him, to his friend. Ren had been the only person to stay with Noel, to show him some kidness, ever since he had gotten out of jail.

And now, he was dead. All because the one person he had place all his trust in, had let him down for good.

 _Quite a friend you are, Noel._

But it wasn't his fault, not really. He had spent so much time in prison, so long that ended up forgetting what it felt like to be a good person. To trust other people. To love them. To open up to them.

Maybe he didn't have it in himself anymore. Maybe it was for the best.

The world he had just been tossed in to was similar to a prison, in so many ways. No one would protect anyone. Perhaps, it was for the best, the fact that he had left Ren all by himself, to face his future.

Now, he had a chance. Now, there was no one dragging him down. He could stop pretending, and embrace who he truly was. It wasn't his fault. Not really.

The world had thought of him as a monster. But deep down, Noel didn't mind becoming one, as long as he could live.

Live, for himself, and no one else. Always for himself.

* * *

 _Ren Ohara is dead, executed by Aurora Marien._ _Thirteen contestants left._

Apparently, that was what the watch was for. For letting them know was dead, who was still alive, and where they were. In the map, one of the dots had disappeared, with thirteen still left.

One of them wasn't that far away from her.

 _Think, Avery. Think._

But how could she, when everything that surronded her was death, blood and the future that awaited her? She didn't want to die. She could not die.

Hell, she was still twenty years old. So young, with so much still left to do. After all that training, all that effort, she might never become a police officer. When Avery felt the tears clouding her vision, she brushed them away with her hand.

She couldn't cry. She wouldn't cry. Whoever was watching, making fun of her, would not get the satisfaction of seeing her cry. No, she could not. She wouldn't.

So far, her surrondings weren't very clear. An island, that much was clear. But the rest, well, all that Avery could hope for was that it wasn't that bad as the monsters that she had been running from.

Her gaze had fallen down.

A rock. Not very big, just the size of a loaf of bread, the right size to fit in her hand. It wasn't there just for the sight. It was meant for her.

What did they want her to do with it?

The answer was clear enough in her mind. One dot near her. A rock near her. The answer was clear enough, the only question still left was if she wanted to do it.

Did she? Cirian, Asa and Lilya were gone, far away from her. If she turned back, she was good as dead. She had only one choice left. Follow the dot, take the rock and what would happen after that, well, only she could answer that.

It was depended on if she was willing to work with the people that had put her in there, in order to survive. What was more important? Her life or her humanity?

Decisions, decisions.

* * *

"I'm worried about Avery. She's alone and we're here, with each other." And she was. Worrying, knowing that she cared, would have to be enough at the moment.

Avery was her friend. She was young, alone and defenseless, with all those monsters behind them. If Cirian stopped worrying, just because they were separated, what would that make her?

A monster. A bad person. A coward. _Someone that would last longer?_

Avery had been her friend. But, if following her meant death, Cirian had to move on. How could see, though, with the lovebirds behind her stopping every five minute, to mourn?

"Guys, we need to keep going. The sun will be setting down soon and in the dark, it will be harder to see them coming for us."

It was Lilya who answered her, one hand still locked tight in Asa's. _Didn't she know? Only one would survive._ "Couldn't we just rest for a little? I mean, we have been walking for hours, at least. We need water. And food."

Her own body wanted to give in, to let herself rest, and take a break. But she couldn't. She had to protect Asa and Lilya. It was her duty. She had taken them under her wing and she had let them become her friends, pushed down her walls to let them in, and now it was her duty to protect them.

To do everything to keep them safe. A few feet away from them was a hill, perhaps the biggest one they had faced so far. Maybe, if they managed to get down there and walk a few more feet, they could be safe.

Maybe. Speculation was the best thing Cirian could do. That, of course, and hope.

"Okay," She said, nodding. "We go down that hill and we stay there for the night. That's the best I can give you. With a bit of luck, we'll be safe down there."

Lilya nodded, getting Asa back to his feet, and doing the same thing with herself. "Let's get down there, then. I can't wait to get some sleep, it's been a very long day." And she offered Cirian a smile.

Lilya, staying optimistic, even when the world was about to fall apart. Cirian had been hurt by the world, broken so many times that she had forgotten how to be optimistic.

But Lilya hadn't. Cirian hadn't been able to protect herself, but she could protect that girl, no matter what it cost her. She could protect Lilya's smile, her optimistic side, until her last breath.

So she would.

They went down the hill, slowly, holding on to trees in order to not fall. It took a while, but they finally reached the end. What they saw there was the best thing Cirian had seen in the entire day.

An amusement park. An abandoned one, at least.

Cirian could only begin to imagine what was inside.

* * *

They had been running for hours.

Gen holding on to Erica and Erica holding on to Gen, keeping each going. Both were tired, with their legs aching, almost falling apart.

But they had to keep going. For their own sake, for each other's, because all they had in this twisted world was each other. And they couldn't afford to give that up. Not today.

Little did they know.

Behind them was the pack, already forming a plan, after the sucess that had been the beginning of the hunt. Aurora smiled happily, content with the kill she had made. Hand in hand with her husband, Colin and the sword that had taken Ren's life on the other hand.

Colin, well, he was content to see his wife happy. That was all he could ever hope for, but deep down he wanted more. He wanted to kill someone himself. As much as he loved Aurora, he wanted to make a kill.

Really, really bad.

Andrew, Danilo, Kristin and Victoria stayed together, having a long time relationship with each other. They were friends, but instead of going to a party or having fun together, they hunted.

Augustus had always been a loner, and that hadn't changed. He stayed in the back, watching their behind, for any possible contentants that might appear.

It was Colin, however, that noticed the change in their virtual map. Two dots, named as Genevieve Kalantar and Erica Schimdt were very close to them, not moving. He placed a hand on Aurora's arm, carefully, not to upset her. "Look, my love. Looks like we found our next target."

He quickly informed the others, when they all agreed to follow the dots. It was just the beginning, and Colin couldn't wait to see how it would turn out.

It was too late already, when Erica finally noticed them. Gen did too and grabbed her friend's hand, wanting to run, but it was too late. A bullet, from Victoria's hunting rifle hit Erica on the left and the runner fell down, clutching her leg.

Gen wanted to cry. To scream, to fight, to kick something because it wasn't fair. She didn't get to die now. Not for many years, no, not when she was there in the first place because she had taken Kelsey's place.

Her friend. She didn't regret it. Not even in the face of certain death. The pack reached them in no time. One man, the bigger one, grabbed her hands tying them up and then kicked her legs, making her fall down.

No, no, no. She didn't get to die. Not now.

"Well, well, look what we have here. Didn't you ladies get the message? You were supposed to run, not to stay behind and wait for us. You're only making our job easier."

If she was going to die, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crying. Not now. Not ever. "Go to hell, you stupid pig."

A woman, with red hair and menacing grey eyes, started to approach her. "Oh, look, this one has a mouth. How about I knock her teeth out and make her swallow them, one by one?"

"Patient, my dear. Remember we're going to save the fun ones for the last?" A brown haired man approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "So no, we're not going to kill you. Can't say the same thing about your friend, though..."

Erica. No. "No, you leave her alone! Did you hear me? LEAVE HER ALONE!" All of them seemed to ignore her. Even Erica was helpless to fight back. Her hands and feet had been tied together.

Everyone seemed to ignore her. "No, wait!" The voice didn't come from the group. A man, standing outside their group, hands raised in the air.

"Oh, wonderful. One more idiot who has a death wish." Said the older woman, with a hunting rifle on her right hand.

"That's where you are wrong, miss. I'm not here to die. I'm here to join you." What? Silence ruled over the air, for a few seconds. Then, Aurora laughed, quickly followed by the rest of the group.

"How about you join me for dinner, handsome? You can be my dessert." She purred, but Gen wasn't listening to her. How could Damien join the people who were trying to kill him? Everyone of them?

"You say only one of us can live, right? But all of you can live."

"Yes, those are the rules."

"I want to be that person. No matter what it costs me. I can help you kill the others and in the end, I'll be the one to go home. Simple as that. We can all go home."

Colin frowned. "You're insane." But Aurora, always one step ahead of her husband, smiled. "You say you want to prove yourself, am I right? Then do it, and you can join this. Kill her." She pointed at Erica.

No. "No, Damien, don't. You don't have to do it. Don't, please, she's my friend." Tears were streaming down her face now, and Gen didn't try to stop them. "Please, please."

He ignored her.

"In order to kill her, I'm going to need a weapon. Would one of you be kind enough to give me one of your weapons?" Colin seemed to considered the thought for a minute, clearly unhappy with his wife's choice, and then shaked his head and picked up a small rock.

Handing it to Damien, he smirked. "This will do. For now." As he approached Erica, Gen wanted to scream. Loud, really loud, until some savior could come and find her.

"Don't watch." The words were said for her ears, and hers alone. A young girl, nearly eighteen, was standing behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

She wanted to do as the girl commanded. She did, but she owed it to Erica to watch her final moments so that one day, she could make them pay.

Erica screamed. Damien brought down the rock, over and over again, more blood covering the ground with each stroke. Erica's gaze was unfocused, by now, but she was still breathing. She was still there.

And her eyes were right on Gen. "I'm so sorry." She said, even if she didn't know if her friend could still hear her. When Damien brought down the rock, one last time, her friend stopped moving.

Even after that, he continued. Over and over again, until the thing that had been Erica's head was nothing but a bloody mess on the floor. She was gone.

 _Erica Schmidt is dead, murdered by Damien Arczynski. Twelve contestants left._

It was kill or be killed. Do or die.

* * *

 _ **Ren Ohara, Oklahoma City. Placed 14th.**_

 _ **Erica Schmidt, Queens. Placed 13th.**_

* * *

And that's the start. Apologies to heavydirtysoul and Reader. I loved both Ren and Erica, but starting now, they had no place left in the story. Each of them died for a reason, which will hopefully be clear in the next few chapters. This is like the Hunger Games and in the end, only one will survive. This is just the beginning.

Until the next time.


End file.
